


Life As We Know It

by Rheila



Series: Life as We Know It / Keep on Keeping on [1]
Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 116,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheila/pseuds/Rheila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A trio of survivors on their way to Atlanta meet up with the Dixon brothers, only to be informed that Atlanta's been lost. These three can take care of themselves, but trouble arises as they try and make a place for themselves in the larger group. Season 1 & 2. Daryl/OC. COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stranded

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to manually import this from FF.net since they are no longer allowing automatic imports. I was originally going to rewrite some of the earlier chapters, but have decided to leave it in its original form for now.

 

"For Christ's sake, JJ, slow down!" Dane hollered. His voice was nearly drowned out by the blaring music and the wind rushing by. With the top off and Jason's pedal-to-the-metal attitude it was surprising they could make out a word at all.

The Georgia sun was scorching down from above. Damn was it hot! Sure would be good to get back home after all this global outbreak crap blew over. Leave it to the media to over sensationalize everything. You'd think the whole world had ended in some sort of bloody apocalypse or something. A few people going nuts and developing a taste for human flesh was freakishly weird but it was hardly the end of the world.

"Relax Dane. Not like there's anyone else on the roads! Come on. Back me up on this one, Tom." Jason turned to look at their companion. The brunette was standing in the back of the jeep, the wind blowing her two braids out behind her.

That'd be Autumn River Thompson. Otherwise known as River Thompson, but to the Jackson brothers she was simply known as Tom. "Your brother's got a point there, Dane!" Holding tight to the roll bar of their jeep she arched her back, face up to the warm sun. Damned if the end of the world wasn't all bad.

Next to her Liam hung his head out the side of the jeep, ears flapping in the breeze a huge grin on his face. So far as the dog was concerned life was great. He was on a trip with his master and two of his best friends. Just another day on the road.

"Speaking of which, just where the hell is everyone?" Dane stared down the empty highway stretching out for miles ahead of them. "Was like a god damn zoo out here two weeks ago." When shit had started to hit the fan they high-tailed it into the woods to wait out the throngs of people panicking and taking to the roads. They expected things to be quieter when they came back out, but not this quiet. This was just creepy.

"Could be in Atlanta already," River offered still soaking up the sun.

"Eh?" With her head tilted back Jason couldn't make out what she was saying.

River leaned over the front seats, "I said maybe they're in Atlanta already."

"I don't know why we got to go to Atlanta. Let's just get the hell outta here. Who's to say, maybe this shit's not spread up home yet," Jason whined, conveying his disapproval for the plan for the fifth billionth time since they'd set out. If he had his way they'd be headed straight for the border.

"Normally I'd agree with you bro, but we haven't heard a new radio transmission in almost a week. Shit's getting serious. I think we should at least check in and see what's going on." Dane, always the more responsible of the two brothers.

"Ya, what happened? There should be at least something broadcasting out there. This is definitely getting weird."

"Leave it to Tom. The dead come back to life to eat the living and the part she finds weird is the lack of radio broadcasts," Dane teased.

"You can go to hell. You know what I meant." River rolled her eyes. "Point is we need to at least stop in and get an update, find out what the status of things are."

"Whatever," Jason shook his head slowly. "When it turns out to be a total waste of time I'll be the one telling you two losers I told you so."

"Who you calling a loser, shrimp?" River reached over playfully tousling the younger Jackson brother's hair.

"Who you calling a shrimp, ya midget!" He wheeled around towards the woman behind him, jerking the jeep towards the edge of the highway.

"Fuck! JJ, keep your eyes on the damn road. You trying to get us killed?" his older brother shouted.

Jason corrected course and brought the jeep back onto the center of the lane and they all broke out in uproarious laughter.

River plopped herself on the back floor of the jeep. They'd dumped the seat a couple towns back to make more room for jerry cans of fuel. Leaning against the side of the wheel well she patted her lap inviting her canine companion to join her. "Liam! Here buddy."

Liam turned, a big string of drool letting go of his lip and flying out behind the jeep. He curled himself up in his master's lap. Life was good.

* * *

"Ya lousy," Daryl kicked the bumper of the blue Ford pickup, "no good, useless piece'o'shit!" Making his way around the vehicle he kept booting it with every other word until the front bumper fell off. At least the damn thing'd run outta gas out on a stretch of highway with a few other vehicles.

"Damn lil' bruther," Merle snorted, "lookit wha' ya did t' mah truck!"

"Ain't even yer truck Merle," Daryl retorted.

"Whateva'," Merle said dismissively, "Le's jus' getter back t'gether an' fin' sum fuel an' be on our way."

Giving the pickup one last good kick to the tire, Daryl turned and grabbed a length of hose and a jerry can. "Belong's in a fuckin' junk yard's wha'," he muttered walking toward one of the abandoned vehicles. Kneeling on the concrete he dropped the hose down into the gas tank of a little red sports car.

"Tha's right lil' brother," Merle sneered.

Empty. God damnit. The last batch of cars they'd stopped at had all been empty too. Now they were completely outta fuel, if this lot didn't give up the goods they'd be hoofing it.

"Fuck you, Merle," Daryl hissed. Merle let out a howl of laughter.

With the back of his hand Daryl wiped the sweat that was starting to bead on his forehead. He moved on to the next one. Empty. And the one after that, same thing. Every god damned one of them was empty.

Daryl let out a string of curses that'd put a sailor to shame. "Hell, Merle, there ain't nothin' here." Not a drop.

That's when they heard it. The sound of an engine in the distance. Both brothers turned to look. Hadn't seen another vehicle on the roads in over a week. Hadn't seen another survivor since they'd picked up the chink doing scavenging runs in the city.

* * *

"Over there!" Dane pointed, "Grab the rifle, Tom. Looks like there's two of em."

River grabbed her .308. They'd planned to do some hog hunting while down in Georgia. Of course, that was before all hell broke loose. Hanging on with one arm in the moving vehicle, she loaded the magazine with the other. In a fluid motion she chambered a round and brought the rifle up using the roll bar as a rest. She had the first target in her sights.

"Shit, Dane, I don't think those are whatever-the-hell-you-want-to-call-thems. I think they're people."

"You sure? We sure as hell don't want to get bit if you're wrong."

"Pretty sure," she said her target still in the crosshairs.

"You sure or pretty sure?" Dane hounded.

"Pretty sure," the woman repeated slightly annoyed lowering the rifle. "It's not like there's a bloody guide book: how to identify your mindless undead. JJ, mind bringing us in so we can get a better look?"

"Let's just keep going. What's it matter even if they are?" Jason was getting nervous in the driver's seat. He didn't exactly like people he didn't know. Add in the end of the world hysteria that seemed to be floating in the air and this was a recipe for disaster.

"We need to stop, they could need help." River the bleeding heart.

"Or they could try and kill us and steal our shit. The world's gone crazy." Jason warned. His hand was resting on the shotgun sitting between him and his older brother.

"Then we shoot them, not like we're unarmed and helpless here." River the pragmatist.

Dane just shook his head. "That's our girl. Gone from help 'em to shoot 'em in 10 seconds flat."

"You know you love me," River beamed rifle at her side. "Come on, pull up over there, eh."

"Do I got a choice?"

"Nope, not really."

"Whatever then," Jason came roaring right up to the two people standing on the highway bringing the jeep sliding sideways to a stop. People, definitely people. First ones they'd seen since returning from their little hiatus from the whole end of the world thing.

"Jesus, fucking hell JJ, I'm driving the rest of the way," Dane's knuckles were white as he death-gripped the side of his seat. Not to mention he looked a little green. Jason and River just laughed.

Merle got a bit twitchy as the jeep skidded to a stop in front of them. He got a lot twitchy when he saw the bitch in the back was armed and started fondling his Remington 700. Picking up on his movement River brought her own rifle back up. Just let 'em try and stir up shit.

"Hey there, you guys alright?" Asked Dane from the passenger's seat.

"How 'bout tha' nice 'lil piece'o'ass ya got in th' back there puts down 'er rifle then we can talk?" Merle motioned towards River with his own firearm.

"Like hell I will while you're waving that thing around!" In a fight or flight situation River would pick fight every time. She was liked the damned Chihuahua trying to take on a German shepherd. Didn't matter one lick if she knew she couldn't win, it just wasn't in her makeup to back down.

"How about everyone just puts down their guns," Dane offered trying to smooth things over before there was a chance they'd get out of hand. And with River there was always a good chance they were going to get out of hand.

Jason was trying to make himself look small in the driver's seat. Why couldn't they have just kept driving. Damn him for listening to those two. God please let River not start anything. These two assholes looked tough as nails and he didn't want her getting into it with them.

"Trailer Trash here can go first," River snapped still offended at being called a piece of ass.

Liam sensing her tension came to her side nuzzling her hand with his wet, cold nose. Absent mindedly she stroked his head to let him know not to worry. He sat down and leaned against her leg.

"Th' hell people. You dun go an' turn tha' shit off an' stop yellin' imma kick all y'alls asses," redneck number two finally spoke up. "'less yer tryin' to get us all killed. Th' rackets gonna bring every one of 'em Walkers fer miles."

Man had a point. Dane reached over and cranked down the nob to the stereo.

"Just let it go, Tom" Jason whispered nervously to his companion in the back. She huffed but lowered her rifle. Trailer Trash did the same.

"There, now how about we start over," Dane suggested always trying to be the diplomat.

"Tom? Woooo! Wha' kinda name is Tom fer a girl? Maybe we shoul' take a look-see an make shure she ain't a he. Whatcha say Daryl? C'mon girlie, show us th' goods!" Merle turned beet red with laughter.

Daryl didn't say anything.

In the back of the jeep River twitched, she was itching for a fight with this loser. Jason, praying not to have to bail her out, reached back gently laying his hand on her arm. Wordlessly sending her the same message: Let it go, Tom.

"We never should have stopped," Jason mumbled under his breath. Why didn't these two ever listen to him? Sucked ass being the youngster in the group.

"I think we all just got off on the wrong foot here," Dane worked his magic. "I'm Dane, this is my brother JJ."

River rolled her eyes. Guess they did stop to make sure these two country boys were okay after all. Wasn't it even her idea. "You can call me River."

"Though' you was Tom," Merle snorted.

"It's Autumn River Thompson. Like I said, you can call me River. Only these two shitheads get away with calling me Tom."

"Th' hell kinda name's Autumn River?"

"My parents were hippies," she shrugged. "Could be worse though, eh. They could have named me Starbreeze or Moonbeam." She earned a chuckle out of the beet faced hick she'd dubbed Trailer Trash.

"Merle, an' that ugly bastard's my brother Daryl." Properly introduced. Daryl nodded at the three of them. Hadn't said a word, that one, not since he flipped out and gave them all shit bout the music and yelling.

"We noticed you stopped on the highway, everything all right here?" Dane pulled the conversation back on track.

"Damn truck gone dun run outta gas," Merle spit landing just short the trucks tires.

"Tried siphonin'," Daryl muttered gesturing to the vehicles around, "Ain't nothin' left in any of 'em."

"We got fuel," River apparently ready to let bygones be bygones. Thank the Lord she didn't hold a grudge like some women. Usually.

The Dixon brothers stood speechless. Surely she wasn't just offering it to them. In this world people took, they didn't give, not unless it went with a hefty price tag. Food, guns, gas those were the usual currency now.

Jason gave her the evil eye. He'd go to the end of the earth for his friends, but he didn't like strangers. People couldn't be trusted. Definitely didn't like giving away precious resources to some hick assholes they'd just had the misfortune to meet.

River smiled reassuringly at the boy. "Headed to the refugee center in Atlanta?" She asked Trailer Trash while she grabbed one of the 10 gallon jerry cans her and Liam were sharing the back with.

Merle snorted. "Ain't nothin' left in Atlanta 'cept th' geeks. Las' place a sweet lil' thang the likes of you wants t'go."

"What do you mean there's nothing there?" Dane pushed. That's where all the broadcasts had been telling people to go. Just what the hell happened since they decided to take their camping trip and wait things out.

"O'er run," Daryl chimed in. "Like Merle said, ain't nothin' left."

"Where you boys headed, then?" River asked hopping over the side of the jeep and joining them on the hot, mid-afternoon concrete. Keeping her eyes on Trailer Trash she handed the fuel to the quiet, brooding one named Daryl. He gave her a slight nod in thanks.

"Got a camp jus' down the highway sum," Merle titled his head towards the city.

"How far?" Dane was now out of the jeep and staring down the long empty road.

"'Nother 5 mile or so. Deputy Dickhead says t' bring in any survivors we's come 'cross. Saefty in numbers or sum such bullshit," Merle spat again, this time nearly landing on Rivers boots.

She glared at Trailer Trash. Now River was used to being around guys, but this one just rubbed her the wrong way. "You're a disgusting pig."

"Now, now tha' any way t' treat a new friend?" He chuckled. "Here we was gonn' invite y'all t' come wit' us. But if yer gonn' be callin' names then maybe we jus' gonn' leave y'all here."

Rivers jaw just about hit the concrete. She was easy to bait and she'd just taken it hook line and sinker. "If I recall," she fumed, "It was us that just saved your sorry asses! You'd be walking back to your precious camp if not for us!"

Merle roared with laughter.

Hell no. Bad enough they had to stop and chat with these assholes. They were not going with them. Absolutely no way were they going to follow them to this camp of theirs. Jason gripped the steering wheel. Just get back in the jeep and drive away. That's all they had to do. Head for the border.

"What do you say, Tom? Just for one night. Go find out what the hell is going on. That's what we were heading to Atlanta for anyway right?" Dane turned to her. River nodded in agreement.

"What the hell guys, don't I get a say in this!" Came a squeaky voice from the jeep. "Let's just forget it and head to the border, eh?"

Putting one foot up on the back wheel and grabbing the roll-bar for leverage River hopped back up into the jeep. Liam met her with wagging tail and a plethora of kisses. She scratched the dog behind the ears, "Wasn't going anywhere without ya bud, don't worry."

"Uh hello, guys?" Jason waved his arms wildly above his head.

River gave him a playful nudge in the shoulder. "Suck it up, princess, it's just for one night."

"Lead the way," Dane hollered to the two rednecks as he climbed back into the passenger's seat.

"I hate you both," Jason grumbled.


	2. To Stay or Go

 

It was the end of the world and the trio of survivors were a long way from home. Before heading north to the border they'd decided to get caught up on the state of things. En route to Atlanta they had the fortune, or misfortune whichever the case may be, to run into the Dixon brothers on the highway. It looked like Atlanta was a bust. Though they were divided, they'd chosen to follow the Dixons back to their camp for one night before continuing on their way. Someone had to know something.

The Dixon's blue pickup pulled off Highway 85. Dane had let his younger brother keep driving. Getting in a vehicle with Jason driving was pretty much gambling with your life, but what the hell! It might help keep his mind occupied and it was the end of the world after all. Jason spun the wheel of the jeep following in the pickup's tracks. The closer they'd got the more quiet and sullen he'd grown.

"Quit pouting," River ordered.

Jason ignored her. The tightness in his shoulder muscles was easily visible.  _Eyes on the road_ , might as well be his new religion. Or the dirt trail as the case may be.

"For God's sake JJ, it's just for one night!" River snapped. Patience was not one of her virtues. She hated it when he was mad at her, but sometimes his social anxieties were just ridiculous.

"Just let him be, Tom" Dane said softly from the passenger's seat. Good ol' Dane, he was their rock.

River slumped in the back of the jeep wrapping her arms around Liam's thick neck. Her happy little family wasn't happy and it bugged the hell out of her.

Then it came into view. Camp. Somehow no one had thought to ask just how many people were in the group from which the Highway Hillbillies came. If Jason had been anxious before, he was panicking now. Dane laid a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.

"It'll be fine JJ. We'll set up somewhere near the edge of camp. No one's gonna bug you if you want to hide out," Dane reassured him. Frowning he turned back to River. She swallowed suddenly feeling very guilty for snapping at Jason. This was going to be tough on the kid. Well, at 19 he wasn't really a kid, although to her he'd probably always be Dane's kid brother. She'd known him since he was 6 and she was 15. She'd watched him grow up.

The Dixon's brought their blue pickup to a stop. Jason pulled the jeep up alongside it and cut the engine. A crowd was gathering, people seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.

A young boy ran up circling the jeep, eyes as wide as saucers. "Wow!" he exclaimed, dwarfed by the lifted vehicle sitting on top of its 35 inch mudders. "Cool jeep!" It certainly was a thing of beauty. That machine was the Jackson's baby, and they'd spoiled it. Pumpkin orange with charcoal and light grey detailing. Topless to enjoy the warm Georgian weather. Chrome. Winch. Push bar. They also weren't afraid to use it for what it was built for. It was splattered with mud from front to back and top to bottom and had a small crack in the corner of the windshield.

"What've we got here?" Shane asked walking over and joining the welcoming party.  _That must be Deputy Dickhead_ , River thought back to what Merle had said.  _Oh glorious leader_.

"Hi there," Dane greeted them as he stepped down from the jeep.

"Found 'em on the highway," Daryl muttered walking past Shane and the rest of the group. Apparently he'd done his duty by leading them here and he was finished.

"Watch out fer tha' one," Merle jabbed a thumb in River's direction. He let out a bellowing laugh and followed his brother.

The three of them were left there floundering.  _Gee thanks guys, bring us to your camp and just dump us_. Jason's breaths came slowly and deliberately. River wrapped an arm around his shoulder giving him a quick squeeze before she exited the jeep and joined Dane facing the ever growing group of people staring at them.

"Good to see some more survivors. I'm Shane," the deputy looked genuinely happy to see them.

"I'm Dane, That's my brother JJ, and this is River."

Introductions went around. The two blond sisters were Andrea and Amy. The young boy who'd been admiring the jeep was Carl, and Lori was his mother. Dale was the friendly looking old man with the hat. There was Carol and her daughter Sophia. Carol's husband Ed was not around at present. There was Glenn, the young Asian boy. Then there was the Morales family. T-Dog. Jacquie. Jim. Too many names, they'd never remember them all.

"And this is Liam," River added to the list, calling her dog to her side. After all, these people only had four new names to remember, it'd be easier for them. "After Liam Neeson," she paused to scratch him under the chin. "You know, the actor."

The kids seemed fascinated with the dog. "He's a funny looking lab," Sophia commented scrunching up her nose.

River laughed. She heard that a lot. "That's 'cause he's not a lab. He's a Chesapeake, best damn hunting dogs out there." River beamed. If the jeep was the Jackson's baby, Liam was hers.

"Is he friendly?" Sophia asked, eye's bright and hopeful.  _Poor kids must be going stir crazy_.

"Sure is."

"Can we play with him?" Sophia could no longer mask her excitement. She practically was bouncing when she glanced over at Carl. The boy too had a huge grin on his face.

"As long as you give him back," River winked and the girl.

"He loves to play fetch," Dane chimed in, grinning. "And he's damn good at it!" That dog would spend entire days fetching ducks and geese from a pond or lake. His stamina was like none other.

"Mom!" Carl was tugging excitedly at Lori's hand. "Can I go play with Liam and Sophia?"

Lori looked around nervously. "Okay, but you make sure you stay in sight of the RV at all times. You hear me?"

That boy took off so fast you could barely make out the "Yes mom!" as he ran to catch up. Kids and animals belonged together, River thought.

"Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him," Carol offered. Lori looked relieved.

Shane nodded to the newcomers. "How 'bout I give you a tour around camp?" he offered.

"That would be great!" Dane exclaimed.

"Your friends going to join us?" Shane asked before they headed out.

"Tom?" Dane called over.

River was standing next to the jeep talking in hushed tones to Jason. At the mention of her name she turned. Dane motioned with his head for her to follow him and the Deputy. She bit her lip and shook her head. Looking from her to his younger brother Dane knew better than to push.

"Looks like it's just us."

Shane nodded, "Alright, c'mon."

"We were only planning on spending a night and trying to get caught up on what happened," Dane explained to the deputy. "We've been camping for the last two weeks waiting for things to blow over so we're a little out of the loop now. After that we'll be on our way again."

"You're welcome to stay, we could always use a couple more hands around here," Shane offered. "Things been pretty crazy since the refuge center in Atlanta fell. The roads and cities aren't safe anymore."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I really think it best we keep moving. We're a long way from home." Dane politely declined Shane's offer.

* * *

"C'mon JJ," River gently prodded him to get out of the jeep. "We'll go set up camp, okay? Just you and me."

"Alright," Jason relented climbing down from the jeep. The two of them carried their tent and firearms to the edge of camp where Jason would feel more comfortable. There was only one other tent set up in the area.

Every eye in the camp followed them. For a trio of stragglers they sure were well armed. A mix of envy and unease hung in the air.

* * *

Desperation. Fear. Uncertainty. All these things overwhelmed Dane as he toured around the camp. Most of these people weren't prepared in the slightest to survive in this new world. The world as these people knew it was gone. For Dane and his companions that reality hadn't hit. They were each other's world. So they laughed and they joked and they carried on.  _ **They went camping**_ _, for Christ's sake_. He felt sick realizing what everyone else around them was going through.

"How long have you been holed up here?" Dane asked his tour guide.

Shane scratched his head. "A couple of weeks?"

"Around when the broadcasts stopped?" That was about the same time Dane and his companions had fled for the woods too.

"Ya, about then. A little before. We'd been en route to Atlanta like the broadcasts had instructed when they started with the Napalm. Decided to turn around then and there."

As the two continued to walk Shane answered Dane's questions about Atlanta and how they had ended up here.

* * *

River plunked the tent gear down on the ground. "The hell you think yer doin'?" came a familiar voice.

"Putting up our tent, what's it look like?" River snapped back.

"Not here you ain't."

A smile crept onto River's face. "Really?" She stopped and put her hands on her curvy hips and stared straight at Daryl. She had the greenest eyes he'd ever seen. They were bright and full of life.

Daryl glared sideways back at her. Him and Merle liked it out here. No one from camp bothered with them. Like hell these scrubs were going to move in and set up shop right next to them.

Unfazed by his icy stare, River turned back to what she was doing. "Just watch me." Her open defiance was met with only some grumbles from the brooding redneck brother. She was a girl after all was said and done.

Merle stepped out of the bushes where he'd been taking a leak. He took a good long look at River's ass as she was bent over attaching one of the tent poles. "Seein' as we gonn' be neighbors an' all," a wide grin spread across his face, "if'n ya get lonely, com'n o'er t' see ol' Merle an' we can go sumwhere an' bump sum uglies, if ya know what I mean." He winked at her.

Jason winced. If that inbred shit kept pushing River she was going to snap and it'd be him and Dane picking up the pieces. That girl got them into more trouble than any one person ought to be able to.

River wanted to vomit. "Not if you were the last man on earth."

"Damn near am, sweet cheeks. Las' real man anyhow." He puffed out his chest.

New tactic.  _Ignore him_. "JJ, can you grab the other end of this pole?" Jason let go the breathe he hadn't realized he was holding. River could easily set the tent up solo, but it kept them both occupied and out of the Trailer Trash's way.

Once they were set up Jason took their gear in the tent. He didn't come back out. Feeling ill from the ride over, that was the official story.  _Too hot in the Georgian sun, didn't drink enough water_. That sort of thing. Her and Dane were used to making up excuses for him.

"You going to be okay?" River asked before leaving him.

"I'll be fine. I'd just rather..."

"Ya, I know."

* * *

River met up with Dane near the center of camp.

"Tom," he said quietly pulling her aside. "I think we ought to stay."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"No," she repeated. "It's a pretty simple word, you don't need me to define it do you?"

"River..."

"Uh-uh, no way. Do you know who our neighbors are? Besides, I'll die of boredom around here."

"River!"

"What?" She suddenly realized he was using her name.  _Damn it_ , he only did that when he really meant it.

"Seriously, you'll 'die of boredom'?" Dane couldn't believe the words that came out of that woman's mouth sometimes. "Do you realize what these people are going through? Most of them have lost people. They're scared to death and they have no idea what to do."

_Oh. Right. Bad choice of words, end of the world and all_. "Us staying isn't going to fix things," she huffed. "The dead are still going to rise to eat the living." River stared Dane down the way she did when she was ready to lock horns. He knew that look. "Your brother is in the tent having a panic attack, and I can't stay, Dane. I can't. One night, that's what we said." That girl was stubborn as a mule.

"We can help them," Dane said emphatically.  _Appeal to her sense of generosity_.

"So help them. Give them one of the rifles, some ammo, they can hunt. We don't need to stay. Problem solved, everybody gets what they want."

"Tom, most of these people couldn't hunt if their lives depended on it," Dane reminded her.

"They'll learn." She was already feeling restless just at the thought of staying.

"Why, because you did?" His words were like teeth sinking into an old wound of hers. She glared at him.

"Dane, I'm sorry. I can't." Her eyes were set in stone. The flesh-eating monsters didn't upset her version of the world too much. However, being tied down to a camp, that wasn't the life she knew. "I'd be willing to bet your brother feels the same way." With that River turned and walked away.  _To hell with Dane_. She found a log to slouch on by the fire.

"Everything alright, hon?" Lori was standing over her with her head cocked to the side her long dark hair streaming down.

"Just peachy," River growled staring after Dane as he faded across the camp.

Dane had his work cut out for him. On one hand he had River, as nice as she was, pathologically obsessed with her freedom. On the other he had his younger brother who couldn't deal with people he didn't know extremely well and became paralyzed with anxiety. He headed back to the tent to check on his younger brother. Sitting outside the only other tent in the area were none other than Merle and Daryl.  _Fantastic, the Highway Hillbillies_.  _No wonder Tom was complaining about the neighbors_.

"How you doing, JJ?" Dane poked his head inside the tent. Jason was sitting in the middle surrounded by all their gear. He looked up.

"Better," he mumbled.

"You hungry?" Jason nodded. "How about you get a fire going and I'll dig out the noodles." The main camp had a fire, but that was out of the question for now.

Dane cooked up some noodles in their camp pot and divvied them up. "I'll go take these to Tom."

* * *

Somewhere along the line Liam must have got bored of playing with the children. He was curled up at River's feet. She'd been so lost in thought staring at the fire that she hadn't even noticed he'd returned until Dane's voice snapped her out of it. He'd brought her noodles. Then just as suddenly as he'd appeared he disappeared again. River dumped half the noodles out for Liam. The canine gobbled them excitedly.

"Momma, I'm hungry," Sophia's soft plea barely carried over to where River was sitting.

"I know sweetheart," the pain in Carol's voice was unmistakable. How horrible as a parent seeing her little girl suffering and being unable to do anything about it. How helpless she must feel.

River looked down at her remaining noodles.  _God damn it_. She put down her fork. Dane had been right.


	3. Hangovers and Hangups

 

**Chapter 3: Hangovers and Hangups**

* * *

The plan had been to stay for one night and get back in the loop. Except shit never goes according to plan. They each had their own reasons for staying, even if it was only for each other. Regardless of their reasons, it was looking like the trio would be calling the Atlanta Camp home for the time being.

Autumn River Thompson rummaged through the jeep.  _Might as well get shit faced_. Might be the last chance she got. Two cases of beer and a nearly full bottle of rum later she took her booty back to the tent. Liam followed her, tail wagging.

By some miracle of God, Dane had managed to drag Jason from his hiding hole and both Jackson brothers were sitting around a small fire when River arrived.

"Peace offering," River suggested, holding the booze up and giving Dane a weak smile.

"That mean you're staying?" Dane perked up.

River shrugged noncommittally. "For now. You talked to JJ?"

"Ya, he talked to me," Jason frowned, looking incredibly unpleased. "So much for just one night, eh?"

"Ya," River sighed. She plopped herself down on the ground between the two brothers.

Dane was watching River intently. "So, Tom... What made you change your mind?"

_Something that hit a little too close too home_. River thought of Sophia. She opened her mouth to answer when she was interrupted by her least favorite neighbor.

"Looks like yer 'lil tent buddy didn' wanna leave 'fore she got some uh ol' Merle." He grinned wide and winked at her.

"For the love of God, you're deluded," River groaned.

Merle laughed.

"Hey Merle," Dane tossed him a beer. "Why don't you join us?" Merle might possibly be the biggest asshole in camp. Better to make friends, not enemies.

"Are you kidding me?" River's jaw dropped. Jason winced.  _Why invite Merle of all people._

An hour later the four of them were all good and drunk. Even Jason seemed to be enjoying himself a little. He was laughing and chatting. It was good to see him getting out of his shell.

"Th' problem wit' this county," Merle slurred launching into yet another verbal attack on anyone whose skin color wasn't white.  _This guy was probably a card carrying member of the Ku Klux Klan_. River glanced towards the rest of the camp.  _Oh yeah, the was bound to be drama._

River rolled her eyes. "Problem with this country," she countered, slurring herself, "Is all the inbred fucks who'd rather blame everyone else for their problems instead of taking responsilibity... No that's not right. Reponsil... No, ah fuck it." River gave up and took another swig.

"The problem with this country," Jason chimed in, "Is it's too fucking hot." At least down in Georgia. Even in the evening with the sun going down he was sticky with sweat. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

"Here, here!" Dane cheered lifting his beer and sloshing it out of the bottle. "I'll second that."

"Quit yer whinin' ya God damned Canucks," Merle leaned back emptying another beer.

Jason laughed then looked over towards the Dixon's tent. "Ah shit, Merle, your brother looks like he's getting ready to murder us." He grinned, unfazed. The alcohol was definitely helping his anxiety.

"Hey, Daryl!" Merle shouted to his brother who was diligently cleaning his crossbow. "Git yer ass over 'ere an have a drink wit' us."

Daryl ignored him.

"Daryl!" Merle shouted again.

River stood up. Her head swam and the whole world seemed to spin. Tentatively she took a step. Having not landed face first in the dirt she gained a bit of confidence. "I'll go get him," she offered, stumbling towards the other tent.

Liam lifted his head to see where his master was going. Having determined it was nowhere he was interested in he laid it back down oh his large paws.

"Come on," River reached for Daryl's arm and missed. Losing her balance, she tripped over her own feet. If she hadn't been so drunk she would have seen him pull away, would have seen the glare that said:  _if you touch me I'll fuckin' kill ya_. "Time to stop being Mr. Antisocial," she informed a tree as she dusted herself off. Bewilderment spread across her face.  _What the hell happened to the other Dixon brother?_

Daryl was sitting in the exact same spot still cleaning his crossbow, looking mildly amused.

Back at the fire, Jason was killing himself laughing. "Think we ought to cut her off?"

"I think so. Wanna help me wrangle her into the tent? She'll thank us in the morning."

* * *

The Jackson brother's were the second to last people up in the morning. The only one over sleeping them was River, and she didn't look like she'd be rising and shining any time soon.

"Just let her sleep it off," Dane suggested. "Liam will keep an eye on her, won't ya bud?" The deadgrass colored dog stared up at Dane from where his head was resting on his master's shoulder and blinked. He wasn't going anywhere until she woke up.

Outside of the tent it was a bright, sunny day.  _Uhg_ ,  _Fantastic_. By late afternoon it would be sweltering. "You said there was a quarry?" Jason asked squinting against the blinding sun. His eyes were a little light sensitive but he wasn't feeling too bad.

"Ya, it's not far from here," Dane directed his brother who had missed Shane's tour.

"And there's fish?"

"According to the two blonde chicks there's fish. Must have been stocked or something."

"I don't care how they got there, so long as they're biting. Want to grab the other rod and join me?" Jason loved to fish. It was quiet, peaceful, relaxing. It also happened to be the perfect reason to avoid the other members of the camp.

"Nah. I was hoping to talk with Shane some more." Dane also wanted to take stock of what they had left.

"Your loss, man."

In the tent, Dane knew they had his and River's .308 calibre rifles and Jason's 12 gauge shotgun. They had about three and a half boxes of ammo for the rifles and two boxes of shotgun shells. Plenty for a bit of target practice and hunting a few hogs. Defending themselves from the living dead? It could wind up being a problem.

In the jeep was the second fly-rod, and a small assortment of flys that Jason had left behind. Two 10 gallon containers of fuel remained after they'd given the one to the Dixon's. They also had an assortment of snare components that never left the jeep as well as a dozen 220 conibear traps they'd picked up used at the Trapper's Convention. That convention was the whole reason they were even in this God forsaken state.

All-in-all they were pretty well set. The world had picked a good time to end. Although, it wasn't exactly unusual to find any of those things in the jeep. The three of them, they'd be fine. But it wasn't just the three of the Dane was thinking about. His little tour with Shane had really opened his eyes.

Jason arrived at the edge of the quarry and set up his rod. He was just about to cast.  _Oh beautiful, quiet day!_

"Hey! JJ, Right?" A cheery voice carried across the water. So much for a peaceful day of fishing by himself.

Hearing his name called out by a stranger Jason's body immediately went rigid. He let out an exaggerated sigh and looked up. Two gorgeous blondes were out in a boat waving at him.

"Hi there! Hello!" Amy giggled and leaned over whispering something to her older sister.

Jason stood there speechless. His chest felt like it was in a vice grip.  _Breathe, just breathe._  After 19 years, you'd think he'd have figured out 'hello.' Awkwardly he raised a hand and waved. It was accompanied by a grimace that made him appear to be in pain. In a way he was.

_Oh dear God, they were coming over_. Now what the hell was he supposed to do. He was sweating like a stuffed pig, but it wasn't the Georgian sun.  _Shit_. All he wanted was to do a little fishing. In peace. By himself.

"Hi, I'm Amy," The younger one stepped out of the boat as it pulled up to shore.

Jason found himself filled with a sudden urge to flee. His mouth went dry and he nervously chewed on his lower lip.

"I'm Andrea, Amy's sister. We met yesterday. It's JJ, right?"  _For the love of God, why did they have to be so friendly._

_Anything, just say anything. It's better than standing there saying nothing_. "I... I... Uh," Jason stammered trying to wipe the sweat off his palms on his pant leg.

* * *

River tentatively opened one eye. Her head was pounding and the contents of her stomach were threatening to make a reappearance. "Remind me never to drink again," she grumbled miserably as she rolled over.

Liam was the only one listening. He raised is head at the sound of his master's voice leaving a generous puddle of drool where he'd been resting his head on her shoulder.

River crawled out of the tent. Dark circles ringed her eyes, her hair was a mess, and her skin was pallid.

"Hit the bottle a little hard last night?"

River groaned. Squinting in the sunlight she was able to make out Shane. Her luck would have it that there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

"Here, this'll help," the deputy tossed her a bottle of water.

"Thanks," River croaked still on her hands and knees.

"Don't mention it," Shane gave her a single nod and then left her to her own devices.

Dane wandered around camp pondering their resources and how best to put them to use.

"Dane," Carl came racing up to him, "Hey Dane."

"Hey Carl, what's up?" Dane knelt so he was more on Carl's level.

"Can we play with Liam?" Behind Carl, waiting in the distance, stood Sophia and the Morales kids.

"Sorry bud, he's with River right now."

"Do you know where River is? We can go ask her."  _Persistent little bugger._

Dane scratched his head. "Probably not the best idea. I'd be willing to bet River's not feeling too good this morning. Best to leave her alone for a while."

Lori was watching her son. It was nice to see him happy and excited about something for a change. The dog was good for all of the kids. "I'm sure you can play with Liam later, hon."

"Why wait?" River, who was making her first appearance for the day well after noon, sent Liam off to the kids. "Go to Carl, Liam!" He was happy to have some playmates, River wasn't much fun when she was hungover.

"Afternoon Tom. You look like shit," Dane said plainly. It was one hell of an understatement.

"Language!" Carol called out. When Dane wheeled around in surprise she became more timid. "There's children around," she explained quietly.

Dane mumbled an apology.

"You don't look too great yourself," River retorted. Her head was too foggy to come up with anything better to say.

"Honey, if you could look in a mirror you'd be calling him Brad Pit!" Jacquie winked at River.

"That bad, eh?"

The three women from the camp nodded in unison. "Let me get you some more water," Lori offered. River made no objections.

"I thought I'd head out and set a few traps," Dane obviously was feeling significantly better than she was. "You coming?"

River was clutching her face while she shook her head. She was sure she was going to vomit. "JJ," she groaned, unable to articulate any other words in the sentence:  _No, why don't you take JJ?_

It didn't matter. They spoke each other's language. "Nah, he's out fishing."

River raised her hands palm out while she shook her head again.  _No, I wouldn't be able to go._

"Alright, on my own I guess. I'll catch you later."

River closed her eyes giving him a single slow nod.  _Ok, see you_. Then she doubled over and puked all over her boots.  _Damn it_. But she did feel a little better.

The next morning went much smoother. Of course, they were all out of booze and beer so no one was nursing a hangover. Although even if they had, River had sworn off alcohol.

She woke early, before sunrise. Without bothering to change out of her flannel men's pajama pants and baggy t-shirt she slept in she pulled on her boots and laced them up. "Liam?" She whispered so not to wake her other tent mates. "Time to go, bud."

"Rise and shine!" called a voice as she made her way across the camp. River swung her head around and saw Shane. "Looking a little better this morning."

River nodded. "Feeling a whole hell of a lot better too." She lowered her head, "Sorry you had to see me like that yesterday."

"Hey, don't worry bout it."

River nodded.  _Right. Easy for him to say, he's not the one who puked all over himself in front of half the camp._

"You heading out hunting?" Shane nodded to the rifle River had slung over her shoulder. Shane did a bit of hunting, but it made him uneasy that the main providers for the camp were a couple of angry, racist hicks. The Dixon's didn't really fit in around camp.

"Just taking Liam for a run." It was a perfect morning for a run. Slightly overcast and with a bit of a breeze.

Shane nodded. "Be careful. We haven't seen many Walkers this far from the city, but they are out there."

"That's what the rifle's for," River smiled reassuringly.

* * *

An hour or so later the Jackson brothers emerged from the tent. The sun was up and people were milling around.

"We should've put up roadside signs warning people the city's not safe," Lori exclaimed.

A frustrated Shane responded, "We just don't have time to be putting up signs Lori."

Dane climbed up on top of the RV where Dale was sitting in a lawn chair. "What's going on?" he asked the old man, motioning to the heated argument going on down below.

Dale looked over the newcomer. "A voice came through on the radio this morning, but we weren't able to fix our radio. We're not sure if our warning got through to him," he explained. Meanwhile down below Lori stalked off to her tent. Not far behind was Shane.

"Thanks Dale," Dane nodded to the old man. Shane was right, though. There were other more important things to be doing. "I'll see ya around."

Next to the RV, Jason was wringing his hands waiting for Dane.  _Should've just stayed at the tent_. He climbed down and Jason exhaled a sigh of relief.

"I'm gonna grab a bite to eat then I'm heading out to check those traps I set," Dane told his brother. "We're going to need the food soon. And these people could already use it." The trio had enough food for themselves for a couple more days at most. Dane wasn't concerned. He planned to bring home a decent catch. "Who knows, maybe you'll even catch some fish today," he teased.

Jason's face flushed immediately. After Amy and Andrea had joined him on the shore he'd panicked. When he was unable to talk to them he ran away. Utterly mortified he had hid in the tent for the rest of the day. It didn't get much worse than that, he thought.

Of course, if things can get worse, they usually do. "Hi JJ," a voice called out, causing Jason to jump. He turned a beet red color that'd rival Merle when he was drunk.  _Amy. Shit_. He'd rather be trapped in a small room with a dozen Walkers.

"Good morning Amy, Andrea," Dane greeted them while his brother stood motionless, trapped by his fear.

"Hi boys," Andrea stood back.  _Oh God_ , Andrea was there too.

"Good morning Dane." Amy smiled. She was cute. Innocent. "I actually came to see JJ."

Slowly Jason turned his body in the direction Amy's voice had come from. He just stared at the ground, red as a tomato, completely unable to bring his eyes up to look at her.

"You dropped this yesterday," Amy said, holding out his fly rod to him. "I thought you might need it."

Jason opened and closed his hand in a repetitive motion.  _Just take the damn rod and say thank you. It's not that freaking hard_. He tried opening his mouth but no words came out.  _People do this every God damned day. It's simple_. "I...uh...um..." He squirmed.

Amy watched him patiently, a friendly smile on her face.

"Thanks," he finally spit out so fast it was almost intelligible and snatched the rod.

"You're welcome." Amy hung around for a moment more. "I guess... I'll see you around. Andrea and I are going to the quarry to do some fishing later...," she trailed off leaving the last part as an invitation. In Jason's world however, it came across as o of a warning.

"Hey Amy, Andrea" Dane called out as they were walking away.

"What's up Dane?"

"Either of you seen River this morning by any chance?"

"Haven't seen her," Andrea answered.

Amy shook her head.  _No_.

* * *

River doubled over. Her lungs were burning and she had stitches in her side. But it was good to be out for a run with Liam. It was good to be doing something normal. It was good not to be trapped in that camp.

Suddenly Liam perked up his ears and turned his head slightly to some noise only he'd picked up. River knew the pose well from hunting with him. Something was there.

"What is it, Liam?" She whispered. River swung the rifle off her shoulder and chambered a round while she scanned the area her dog was watching. There was a Walker headed their way. _Big. Firggen. Deal_. River lined up the shot and pulled the trigger.

Misfire. "Shit," River mumbled pulling the trigger again. Nothing. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Fight or flight. There was only one option for River.

Beside her Liam let out a low whine as the monster continued to close the distance.

River ejected the cartridge and chambered a new round. The creature was almost to them now. A rumbling growl was emanating from deep inside of Liam. River had the Walker in her sights again. She squeezed the trigger, and...Click. Click. Nothing.

 


	4. Making Friends

 

The trio spent their first night at the Atlanta Camp. Having set up next to the Dixon brothers they started to get to know and bond with their neighbors, and quite possibly the most dysfunctional people in camp. Wildly different, yet on some level sharing a very basic bond they were drawn together from the start. In the morning the Jackson brother's had found their female companion missing, but they're not worried because River can take care of herself. Except out there, somewhere in the wilderness, a walker is bearing down on her and though her rifle is failing to work she wont back down.

"God damn useless piece of shit!" River cursed at her malfunctioning rifle. The Walker was advancing on her and her canine companion steadily. One side of its hideous jaw was hanging loose.  _God Almighty_ , the stench of decay radiated from it and made her want to vomit.  _Like hell_ , not a chance she was going to run from this brain dead corpse.

Liam on the other hand had a better idea. The Chesapeake put a good twenty yards between himself and the monster. He was barking furiously at River to follow him.

The stubborn woman had no intentions of retreating. River reached for her hunting knife. God knows she didn't want to get that close, but it was the only option she had left.  _Bring it, Rot Face!_

Without warning River was knocked on her side, landing in a large mud puddle. She was splattered from head to toe in muck. "Uhng!" Looking up she saw none other than Daryl Dixon.  _Bastard_. That Walker was hers.

With the utmost precision Daryl raised his crossbow and let the bolt fly in one fluid motion. His shot struck the Walker dead center between its lifeless eyes. It crumpled to the ground in a heap. This time it'd stay dead. Daryl looked down at the girl he'd just saved. His stare, full of scorn and disgust, would have made most people wither. River just stared back at him, indifferent. "Helps if ya take th' safety off," he spat at her.  _Dumb bitch, don't know nothin'._

_Like I'm that stupid I'd forget the safety, asshole._ "I would have had him," River grumbled, glaring back at the hunter. Liam had stopped barking and was just watching the two interact from a distance.

Daryl scoffed. "Keep tellin' yerself tha'."

"Help me up," River demanded, holding out her hand.

"Git yerself up." Daryl turned to walk away.

"It's your fault I'm down here in the first place!" River shouted after him. "Hey!" Daryl kept walking. River huffed melodramatically and flopped on her back in the mud. Lacing her fingers together behind her head, she let out an exaggerated sigh. "Guess I'll just stay here and get eaten by a Walker..."

"Ya gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me! Ya fuckin' five or sumthin'?"

"Help me up," River repeated making no effort to move.

"Stop messing 'round an' git up!" Daryl ordered anger dripping in his voice. Again River held out her hand.  _Stubborn as a damn mule._ "Fer fucks sake, yer a pain in th' ass," Daryl growled impatiently, reaching down to haul her up.

"Ya, I know," she grinned reaching down to grab her rifle from the mud.  _Bloody hell, the bastard was right._ Red crept up into her face and she looked away.

"Next time I'ma jus' leave ya t' the Walkers," Daryl grumbled. "C'mon le's get ya back t' camp so's I can git back t' huntin'."

"Hey Dixon..."

"Wha'?"

"Thanks for saving me."

* * *

"Noodles again..." River whined as they sat around eating their brunch. "Thought you were going out to check those traps this morning?"

"What do you care, Tom?" Dane replied. "Not like you're even the one eating them." River sat with her mouth half open, no words coming out. "What, did you think we wouldn't notice?"

"So what?" River snapped back defensively. She gave half the noodles to Liam, who never complained, and set the other half aside.

"You need to eat," Jason said concern on his face.

River looked at the ground. "The little girl. Sophia..."

"We know," Dane said quietly. "You won't be any good to her or anyone though if you don't take care of yourself." Jason nodded in agreement with his brother.

River sighed. "I know..." She leaned up against Dane resting her head on his arm. "So where's your catch?"

Dane gritted his teeth. "Walkers ate it."

"Right, and Liam ate my homework."

"I'm serious."

"Shit, really?"

"Yup."

"Tha's why ya should hunt, ya pussy ass trappers." Merle was spending a good deal of time around their fire with them. They were pretty much the only people in camp that'd talk to him aside from his brother who was usually out hunting.

"Least I'm not an inbred piece of white trash," Dane growled back.

Merle poked a log in the fire. "Best watch tha' mouth o' yers." The threat was half-hearted.  _These Canucks were alright_.

"Wrecked three of the traps too," Jason chimed in, piling on more bad news. "Mangled them. Dane's got me taking a look at them, but I'm not sure I'll be able to fix them."

"Well isn't that just peachy," River grumbled. "How about you, you get out fishing today JJ?"

Jason looked down at his feet. "Not exactly..."

"Eh?"

"Amy and Andrea..."

River sighed. Try as she might she couldn't cover the exasperation in her voice. "JJ, we're going to be staying, at least for now. You need to learn to deal with this."

"Hell, a girl like tha'... I'd jus' take Amy out in the woods an' get yer freak on wit' her. Tits are a lil' small, but she ain't too bad t' look at. Nice ass." Merle piped up. Then giving Jason a suspicious look he continued, "Unless, dun tell me yer one of 'em faggots." He oozed disgust as he pronounced the last word.

River glared at him. Although Merle was the closest thing they had to a friend in the camp so far, most of the time she couldn't stand him.

"Not helping, Merle," Dane shot him an icy look.

Merle laughed. "Jus' saying'"

"It's not like that," Jason spoke quietly looking at his feet and fidgeting uncomfortably. He liked girls, he just couldn't talk to them. Couldn't really talk to anyone besides River and his brother. It didn't help that he actually liked Amy and thought she was cute.

"Uh...hey, guys..." a voice broke in. Glenn had made his way to their corner of camp and was watching Merle nervously all the while keeping his distance.

"What's up Glenn?" Dane asked the young Asian boy.

"We're... uh..." Glenn swallowed.

The trio of newcomers waited patiently for him to say whatever it was he'd come to say.

"Cat got yer tongue? Spit it out Slant-eyes," Merle spat distastefully.

"We're going on a scavenging run to Atlanta to get more supplies. I'm supposed to see if anyone else wants to come."

"Sure, I'm in," Dane offered. He was trying his best to help out wherever he could. Not surprisingly, his younger brother shook his head.

River jumped on the opportunity. "I'll go!" Anything to get her away from camp for a while.

"Y'all gonna need someone who ain't a fuckin' pussy. 'Sides, I got the guns an' seems I could use a few things from town."

"That's awesome!" Glenn exclaimed.  _Well, maybe not so awesome that Dixon was going_. "We leave in fifteen minutes. I'll meet you guys, and uh, gal by the trucks."

"Just me and Merle," Dane corrected him, "Tom, err.. River's not going," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Pardon me?" she responded indignantly. "What the hell do you mean I'm not going?"

"Please Tom, don't turn this into a fight," Dane begged. He was worried about her and it was too risky her going to the city. "Actually, if you could take Liam and reset my traps for me. Maybe set some boxes up higher so they're out of the reach of the Walkers, that'd be a huge help." Giving her something to do besides sit around camp might just convince her to drop the scavenging run.

River chewed it over and decided she'd rather spend the rest of the day in the bush than fighting her way through Walkers in the big city. She hadn't told anyone of her earlier encounter, no way would she make the same mistake again. "Alright."

Dane and Merle grabbed their rifles and headed over to the trucks to meet the rest of the scavenging party. Aside from Glenn, Andrea was there. So was Morales, T-Dog and Jacquie.

"No one said we was goin' wit' a couple uh niggers an' a wetback," Merle complained.

T-Dog went to take a step towards the racist pig, but was stopped by Jacquie. "He's not worth it," she whispered to him.

"You're an asshole Dixon," Andrea made no effort to hide the disgust in her voice.

Merle looked the blonde up and down. "Did I ask fer yer opinion, sugar tits?"

"Lay off it, Merle. Let's just get this done." Dane knew their chances of getting through this unscathed would be lower if they couldn't get along. He was just about to hop into the back of the truck when River came running over. Liam was on her heels.  _Damn it_ , he thought this argument was won. "Tom, I thought we agreed..."

"No. I know. That's not..." She stumbled for her words.

"Yer as bad as the fuckin' chink. Whatcha tryin' t' say swee' cheeks?"

"Asshole's right," Glenn muttered under his breath.

Merle took a menacing step towards the much smaller boy. "Ya wanna repeat tha'?"

"Cut it out," River snapped.  _People should just get along_. She hated it when they didn't get along. She dropped into a crouch and threw her arms around Liam's neck, burying her face in his thick fur.

_Something's not right_. Dane laid a hand gently on River's shoulder. "What's going on, Tom?"

She stood, pulling Dane into a hug she told him, "Promise to take care of yourself in Atlanta."

Dane smiled weakly. " 'Course I will."

"It's not the same, Dane."

"What do you mean?"

"Those things. It's not the same. It's not like a moose or a bear."

Dane chuckled. "Come on Tom, since when do you ever need to worry about me?"

River swallowed. "I forgot the safety," she admitted shamefully.

Dane stared at her. River had been hunting since she was fifteen. She hunted to survive. That girl knew how to handle a firearm. "What?"

"I didn't realize how different it was going to be. I didn't take it seriously, and then..." River squeezed her eyes shut. "Then it was almost on top of Liam and I, and I should have ran but I didn't..."

"Whoa there," Merle cut in, "Yer still here ain'tcha?"

River lowered her head. "Thanks to your brother."

"Wait, Daryl Dixon saved you?" Glenn asked in disbelief.

River nodded. "All I'm saying, is be careful, all of you. That means you too, Trailer Trash."

"Keep callin' me tha' an'..."

"And what?" River retorted. The two stared each other down.  _Damn it_. As much as she hated his guts, Merle was becoming her friend.

"Look, I hate to break up the little goodbye party here, but shouldn't we be going?" Andrea shifted her weight impatiently.

River was still facing Merle. "Make sure you bring Dane back in one piece," she warned him. "Or else."

"'Else wha'?" Merle snorted.

"Just bring everyone back."

To his surprise River threw her arms around him. He stiffened and stood dazed for a second before relaxing. "Well well, miss Autumn River, why didn' ya jus' say so..." Merle was about to make one of his typical lewd comments.

"Shut it Trailer Trash," River cut him off before he could ruin the moment and released him from her grip. "Be careful, and try to play nice."

The group piled into the truck and it pulled away disappearing down the dirt road out of camp. No one could have known how things wouldn't go according to plan.


	5. Rescues and Rednecks

 

 

The trio of newcomers continued to bond with the Dixon brothers. Although theyrisked being lumped in with the negative conception the group had of the Dixons! It was a natural and easy relationship. Despite Merle's constant harassment and the fact that she hated his guts, River couldn't help but like the guy. When they took the time they could see the redeeming qualities the redneck brothers from the south possessed. Meanwhile the trio had realized the most important skill they could offer was the ability to provide food. However, for Dane, that wasn't enough. So when Glenn had asked for volunteers for a scavenging mission he had jumped on the opportunity to do more. Slowly they would each find their place in the larger group.

Amy paced uneasily between the main fire pit and Dale's RV. It was like she couldn't stop moving, not for a second, or the demons chasing her would grab hold and drag her under. That was exactly how it felt. If she could just stay one step ahead, just keep moving away from the ugly truth that her sister was out there, in Atlanta, with all of those  _things,_ then maybe, just maybe, she'd get through this.

_Why Andrea?_ Her hand came up and rubbed her forehead.  _And oh God, she was with Dixon_. Amy cradled her head in her hands. The group of scavengers couldn't return soon enough.

His brother was out there too, but it didn't occur to Jason that he had anything to worry about. Dane had his rifle. He could handle himself. Jason was more worried about how he was going to deal with the people from camp on his own. How he was going to deal with  _Amy_.

Jason wanted to go over and say something to comfort her so bad it was almost unbearable, but he didn't know how. He could just watch helplessly as her worry for her sister tore her apart. To see her like this, when normally she was so innocent, so optimistic, it made his heart ache.

_Quit being such an dork and go talk to her_. Jason bit his lip and tried to gather the courage.  _Just tell her that her sister will be okay_. That's all she really wanted to hear, even if no one could know for sure. He took a deep breath and made the first few steps. His lungs burned.  _Oh shit, exhale, right._

The door to the RV opened and Dale stepped out. Seeing the girl's visible discomfort the old man went to her. Amy and Andrea had become like family to him. "Don't worry Amy. She's with Glenn. He knows what he's doing." He put a comforting hand on the younger sister's shoulder. "He'll get them in and out of that city. You know Glenn."

Jason turned abruptly pretending he'd never been walking in that direction. Heat crept up into his cheeks and he kept his head down as he returned to their tent.  _Dumbass! What on earth made him think he could be there for her_?

"I know," Amy tried to smile. "They'll be okay." Doubt snaked its way into her voice. "It's just, this is the first time I've really been away from her since we got here. She's my sister, you know. She's all I got left."

A pained look crossed Dale's face. "I know," he said, bobbing his head slowly. "C'mon, you need to do something. Keep yourself busy or you'll worry yourself to death."

* * *

They couldn't have just seen what he thought they had. Dane closed his eyes and shook his head. Opening them he looked again. A hoard of Walkers were tearing into the horse.  _Shit_. His eyes were right the first time.  _That idiot in the tank is done for._

"Maybe not," Glenn threw out there as he pulled out the radio he carried.

"Glenn, have you taken a look at the street down there? There's no way he's getting out of that tank in one piece. Christ, I'd be surprised if he's not already bit." Dane wished there was a way, but  _my_   _God_! Those things were everywhere.

Glenn spoke into the radio, "Hey, you alive in there?" Dane let out a small cheer when the idiot responded. "Shh," Glenn hissed then pressed the talk button again, "Ya, I can see you. You're surrounded by Walkers. That's the bad news."  _No_   _kidding_. Dane couldn't take his eyes off the mass of corpses milling about and feasting on the horse.

"There's good news?" The voice crackled back across the radio. The two guys looked at each other.  _No. There was nothing good. Nothing good at all._  "Got any advice for me?" The helpless voice begged.

"I'd say make a run for it," Glenn told the man on the radio.

"Make a run for it?" Dane exploded. "Jesus, Glenn! Have you looked out the window? You're going to get him killed!"

Glenn out his palms up to quiet the dissenter. "Just listen," he started but was interrupted by the stranger's voice.

"That's it? Make a run for it?" Ya, Dane was skeptical too.

"Look it's not as dumb as it sounds," he told the guy in the tank. "You have eyes on the outside here. There's one geek still up on the tank. But, the rest have joined the feeding frenzy where the horse went down. You with me so far?"

"So far," the voice responded.

Dane was starting to clue in. He nodded following Glenn's logic. "It's risky," Dane noted, "but it could work. It's a better chance than he's got sitting in there doing nothing."

Glenn continued back and forth with the guy stranded in the tank, working out the rest of the plan. "I'll come with you," Dane offered after he finished.

Glenn shook his head. "No offense man, but I've got a better chance on my own. I need you to go ahead and let T-Dog and Morales know to be ready."

"You got the radio..."

"Look, I got to get down to the alley or that idiot's going to be running around lost on those streets. I don't have time, now go!"

Dane nodded and made his way back to the department store. Everyone else except for Merle was waiting there. He briefed them on what had happened while him and Glenn were on their way to Ted's Outdoor Shop.

Andrea was shaking her head. "You can't be serious! That idiot's already gone and attracted all the Walkers to us and now you want to risk our lives to go save him?"

Ignoring the blond chick Dane looked around and asked, "Where's Merle?"  _An extra hand might not be a bad idea._

"Who the hell cares," T-Dog grumbled. "We're better off without him." The sentiment seemed to be shared among everyone in the group except for Dane.

Andrea scoffed. "Probably gone to the pharmacy to find something to get high on."

"I agree with T-Dog, who gives a shit where Dixon is," Morales' face was filled with disgust. He gestured to some riot gear T-Dog and him had scored, "Let's just make sure we're ready for this."

* * *

Amy brought a pail to Lori who was sitting on a crate by a fire pit. "How do you tell if they're poison?" She asked. Taking Dale's advice she'd gone to pick mushrooms to keep occupied while they waited for the scavenging party to return.  _While she waited for her sister to return._

Looking into the pail, Lori frowned. "There's only one sure way I know of." They all just looked like mushrooms.

"Ask Shane when he gets back?" Amy suggested.

"Ya, you got it," Lori confirmed.

"Bring 'em over here," River called out. She was sitting on a log, Liam at her feet, cleaning her rifle. Every nook and cranny seemed to be filled with mud.  _God damn Daryl Dixon_ , she thought.

Lori took the mushrooms over to River who sifted through them. "These ones here with the honeycomb texture are morels, they're good to eat and easy to identify," she gave a quick lesson in fungi. "Chanterelles," she pointed to some other ones. "Also good. The rest you're going to want to toss."

Lori looked this strange girl over, grateful and curious. "Thank you River. You sure know your mushrooms, how can you tell them apart so easily? They all look the same to me."

River rested her rifle across her lap and laughed. "Hell, I spend half the year living in the bush with those two shitheads," she meant the Jackson brothers. "I need to know this stuff."

"You guys are from Canada, right?"

"Yup," River nodded.  _The Great White North._ "About an hour outside of Fort Nelson. Shit hole town up in northern British Columbia. We've been neighbors ever since we were kids." Neighbors was a loose term in the outskirts up there. They were neighbors in the sense that their properties were adjacent to each other. It was still a five to ten minute drive from one house to the other.

They knew so little about the trio that had so recently joined their camp. "What exactly did you guys do up there?"

"Dane and JJ have a trap line. In the off season they work in the logging industry running machinery. Not exactly a whole hell of a lot else up there."

"A trap line. You don't mean, like, killing animals for fur do you?"  _Go figure that Amy would be a tree-hugger._

"Yep. Our country was built on the fur trade. There's nothing wrong with it. You live out there in the bush you see that. It's food for us, and what we won't eat is food for other animals. The furs and the money's just an added bonus." River felt no shame for what they did. It was the same with hunting. It was all just part of the cycle of life and death.

Amy looked a little pale. "That's cruel!" She looked at the dog curled at River's feet. "I've seen you with Liam. You love him. How can you be okay with letting animals suffer like that?"

"No crueler than going to the grocer and eating beef, or your canned tuna," River shook her head.  _Apparently it was okay for animals to die as long as it was tucked away somewhere where people don't need to think about it_. River never understood. "In fact," she said defensively, "there's probably more laws governing the humane use of traps than there are the humane treatment of livestock."

Unable to bear the topic Amy turned and walked away. River rolled her eyes.  _City people, so disconnected from the earth._

Lori snorted, "I don't think there's any laws governing anything anymore." She gestured around them.  _Right, the world had ended._

"I suppose not," River hadn't given it much thought. She reached down and scratched Liam behind the ears. When she stopped he looked up and stared at her. She didn't resume petting him so he reached his paw out and pawed her. "Yes buddy," she crooned stroking his head.

"What about you?" Lori asked.

"Eh?"

"What did you do up in Fort..." Lori couldn't remember where River had said they were from.

"Nelson." River shrugged, "This and that."

"This and that?" Lori repeated.

"Been helping out on the trap line lately, learning some stuff. Might try and get my own line some day. Worked for a bit in the tourist industry last summer, but that didn't pan out." Neither did any of the multitude of jobs she'd had. Holding down a proper job wasn't exactly River's strong suit. Feeling a little uncomfortable she picked her rifle up off her lap and continued the process of cleaning it.

"So, um, River," Lori started tentatively.  _Might as well_ ,  _seeing as she was already there talking to the girl._  "There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."

River ran the bore snake through her rifle. "What's up?"

"I'm not sure how to say this..." Lori trailed off.

Using her thumb to keep the action open River flipped the rifle up and examined the bore visually. Disappointedly she shook her head and ran the bore snake through again. She was going to strangle Daryl Dixon next time she saw him _. This was all his fault_. "Best way's usually just to say it."

Lori ran a hand through her long, dark hair. "Some of us have noticed, well, that you're getting a little close with the Dixons."

River shrugged. "So?"

"Sweetie, I'm scared for you. We all are."

Dumbfounded, River looked up from her rifle. "Pardon me?"

"Look, the Dixon brothers," Lori tried to explain, "they're not the kind of people you should be around. They're bad news," she warned. "They're unpredictable, violent..." she went on.

For a moment River stared with her mouth half open. "First of all, Lori," she stood and enunciated each word, "I can take care of myself."

Lori raised her palms, "Look, that's not what I..."

"Secondly," River cut her off, "the Dixons are alright in my books." As pissed off as she got with them, she could relate to them. Besides, Merle was the closest thing she had to a friend from the camp.

_Unbelievable_. Lori's eyes widened. "I know you just got here, but..."

Again, River didn't let her finish. "I may be new here. But, Merle, he's all talk. And Daryl, he's already saved my life once," she snapped. Grabbing her rifle and the pack with Dane's traps she turned to leave. "C'mon Liam, let's go," she motioned for the dog to follow her. He fell in at her left side.

* * *

The radio crackled back to life. "Coming back. Got a guest plus four geeks in the alley."

"Jesus!" Dane exclaimed. "He's actually pulled it off."

The guys pulled down the face masks on their riot gear, baseball bats in hand. Even Dane was sporting a bat and had his rifle slung over his shoulder. That sort of noise in a place like this would be like tying a noose around their necks.

"Ready?" T-Dog asked reaching for the door handle. Dane and Morales nodded.

Four Walkers were in the area outside the door, just as Glenn had warned. The three of them made easy work of the Walkers while Glenn got the idiot from the tank safely inside.

Andrea immediately grabbed the stranger and pointed her handgun in his face. "Son of a bitch, I'm going to kill you," she snarled.

"Andrea!" Dane called out, pulling off his face mask. "C'mon, we just saved his ass. Don't make that for nothing," he pleaded with her. The Smith and Wesson was a fine gun, but in her hand it looked so out of place. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever even fired it.

"C'mon, ease up," Jaqui begged, "listen to Dane, he's right."

"Ease up? You're kidding me right?" Andrea spat. "We're dead because of this stupid asshole."

Morales got right in her face. "Andrea, I said back the hell off," he growled. She made no move to do so. "Then pull the trigger," he added casually knowing full well the woman didn't have it in her. A small approving smile crept onto Dane's face.  _Good call Morales._

Shaking her head Andrea backed away. "We're dead. All of us. Because of you."

"We'll figure this out," Dane assured her.  _Not sure how, but we'll figure it out._  Those Walkers we're everywhere outside and they were congregating around the department store they were holed up in. Those glass doors wouldn't hold forever.

"I don't understand," the stranger admitted. He was dressed as a deputy, badge and all.

The group herded him towards the entrance to show him what his careless gunshots had brought upon them. Pressed against the doors were a hoard of hungry Walkers. The glass was already starting to crack.

"Get the picture now?" Morales snapped.

Andrea turned to the stranger, her anger partially subsided. "What the hell were you doing out there anyways?"

"Trying to flag the helicopter," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Helicopter?" T-Dog scoffed. "Man, that's crap. There's no damn helicopter."

"It was just a hallucination," Jaqui offered as an explanation.

Adamantly the stranger insisted, "I saw it."

The debate was cut short when gunshots rang from above. The muscles on Andrea's face tightened. "Oh God," she cried out. "Was that Dixon?"

_Christ almighty!_ Dane massaged his temple.  _Go figure the Highway Hillbilly couldn't stay out of trouble_. He quickly turned to follow the rest up the staircase. With this group someone was going to have to try and mediate between Merle and everyone else. And wouldn't you know it, peacekeeper was a role Dane was used to from his time with River.

Morales was the first to storm out the door onto the rooftop. "Hey Dixon! You crazy?" he shouted at the redneck who was doing a little target practice.

Everyone stopped just outside the door giving Merle a wide berth. He turned around. "Hey, hey, hey, you oughta be more polite to a man wit' a gun, huh," he warned. Dane ignored him and went over to the edge where Merle was situated and took a look over. Dead Walkers littered the street. Each with a perfect little hole in the center of their foreheads.  _Not_   _bad_.

"Relax Merle, don't start anything," he practically whispered.

Merle ignored him and hopped down off the ledge. "Only common sense," he sneered.

"Man, you wasting bullets we ain't even got man!" T-dog scolded him. "And you bringing Walkers down here on our ass man. Just chill."

"Bad enough I got this taco-bender on my ass all day, now I'm gonna take orders from you?" Merle looked at T-dog disgustedly. "I don't think so bro. That'd be the day."

_Fucking hell, there was going to be trouble_. "Merle!" Dane hollered trying to take his attention away from T-Dog, but the redneck had blinders on and didn't even register Dane's presence.

"That'd be the day?" T-Dog repeated disbelievingly. "You got something you want to tell me?"

"Hey T-Dog, just leave it," Morales too was trying to break up the impending fight.

"No!" T-Dog snapped.

"It ain't worth it," Morales tried to reason with him. Merle ran his tongue across his teeth and shifted his weight back and forth on his feet a taunting expression on his face.

_No. No, please don't give him a reason_. "Guys, drop it, c'mon. We got shit to do." Dane knew it was pointless, this was going to happen no matter what he said. He knew that look on Merle's face. He'd seen it so many time's on River's when all he could do was wait and pick up the pieces.

"You wanna know the day?" There was a thick confrontational tone to Merle's voice.

"Ya" T-Dog pushed defiantly.

"I'll tell ya the day mister Yo, is the day I take orders from a nigger."

_And there it was_. T-Dog took a swing and Merle hit him in the face with the rifle. The fight was on. Everyone was shouting and screaming. Chaos surrounded them.

"God damnit Merle!" Dane's voice was drowned out in all the yelling. "Let him be for Christ's sake!" He foolishly tried to grab the very angry and much stockier man who was kicking the downed T-Dog and got thrown to the ground himself. Morales tried to pull him off and took a fist to the stomach for it. If only River could see him now, she wouldn't be saying he was all bark and no bite.

Then all the yelling stopped. The surreal quiet before the storm. "No, no, no, please, please" Andrea begged, breaking the silence.

Dane was picking himself up off the ground. The sudden change and desperation in Andrea's voice made him look up. Immediately he wished he hadn't. Merle had dropped the rifle during the scuffle but now he had his pistol out.  _A Browning Hi-power_ , and he was holding it to T-Dog's forehead.  _Fuck. Shit. Damn it._

"Merle. Oh Jesus, Merle. You don't need to do this." Dane felt like he was going to be sick. "C'mon man," he was scrambling trying to get himself inside Merle's head, figure out what makes him tick. "Look, no doubt being disrespected by this piece of shit has you pissed," Dane winced and reminded himself to apologize to T-Dog later. "But..."

When Merle looked up everyone was staring at him, waiting, helpless. Dane caught his eye, shaking his head ever so slightly.  _Please let it go. How many times had him and Jason silently willed that same sentiment to River?_  Merle spat on T-Dog, his face contorted with the burning desire to follow through, but he couldn't. Maybe River  _was_  right. A collective sigh of relief was breathed by the rest of the scavenging party and they rushed to T-Dog.

* * *

There was static on the radio. Everyone looked up from what they were doing. Far on the edge of camp Jason couldn't hear it, but he looked up none the less. He kept his distance but he was very aware of what everyone else was doing.

Dale rushed to the top of the RV where the radio was set up. Everyone else crowded around, dread hanging over them. It didn't look good. Hesitantly Jason edged his way closer to the group to hear what was going on.

"No, no way. We do not go after them," Shane was laying down the law. "We do not risk the rest of the group."

Amy's expression changed from forlorn to anger. "So we're just going to leave her there?"

"I know this isn't easy," Shane tried to keep the young woman calm.

"She volunteered to go," Amy protested. "To help the rest of us."

"She knew the risks, right? If she's trapped, she's gone. We just have to deal with that. There's nothing we can do." His words were cold.

"She's my sister, you son of a bitch," Amy snapped at Shane before she turned and ran off.

He had to go after her. He couldn't go after her _. Suck it up, Princess,_ River's voice cajoled inside his head. Jason gulped.  _Now or never_. Contrary to the will of every fiber of his being he followed. "Amy?" He croaked, it came out barely above a whisper.

Amy turned, tears brimming in her eyes. "JJ?" He was the last person she expected to see.

Now what? Jason tried to offer her a reassuring smile. Instead his cheeks flushed and he dropped his gaze to the ground. "I... I... Uh...," he stammered trying to get the thoughts in his head to form words.

"Look JJ," Amy said wiping her eyes, "Maybe now's not the best time, okay?"

"Andrea!" Jason blurted.

"What?"

_God, he was useless at this_. "Your sister," he squinted, still looking at the ground. "I know you're scared she won't come back." Tentatively he peeked up with one eye.

Amy sighed and bit her lip, trying to choke back an oncoming sob. "Shane won't go after them." Andrea was all she had left. "I can't live without her," she admitted.

"You're not going to have to," Jason's eye twitched. "I... I... mean...," he paused to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. "They're coming back, you know."

"No. I don't. You heard T-Dog!" Actually, he hadn't. "They're trapped."

"They'll find a way."

Amy stared at him. "Oh JJ, I'm sorry. Your brother's there too. I am so sorry."

That wasn't why he was a bundle of nerves. "I'm n-n-not worried about Dane," he winced, realizing how heartless that sounded. "He... He'll be fine. And he'll bring your sister back."

"You can't know that," She wailed.

Jason closed his eyes and tried to muster up a way to convey the absolute certainty he felt, but all he could think was  _Oh dear god, Oh dear god, What am I doing?_ "Look, I just do. They'll be alright, okay?"

"Okay," Amy tried to sound certain. She wasn't.

Jason was positive. He knew his brother. "She's in good hands. They're coming back," he reiterated finally looking up and meeting her eyes.  _Her beautiful eyes_.

* * *

River trudged up the rocky ridge, weaving her way between the trees. "Damnit Liam! Cut it out," she growled at the dog. She was hot, sweaty, and miserable.  _Georgia was hell, it was as simple as that_. Not a breeze to be had.

The dog didn't care, he just wanted to play. She took another step and he attacked her foot as it moved.

"Liam, no!" He ignored her, growling and wagging his tail. His butt was sticking up ridiculously in the air as he bit playfully at her boots.

River gave up and dropped the pack, plopping herself down next to it. "You win, buddy." She picked up a stick and threw it for him. He tore off, spitting up gravel and dirt behind him, and fetched the stick. Each time he brought it back and River threw it again. She daydreamed of a little pond, nestled on the bank with her shotgun, calling out "Dead bird!" to Liam, the ducks and geese piling up.  _Just wait 'till the fall, pal._

"Time to get going," she informed Liam as he deposited the stick in her hands one last time. "Work to do. You better leave my feet alone now." He didn't pester her and walked quietly alongside his master.

They crested the ridge and River paused to look for game or Walkers, and to get the lay of the land. "Looks like there's a creek bed down there," she told her companion. Liam cocked his head to the side waiting for a word he knew. "Might not be a bad spot," she frowned. Usually she relied on Dane or JJ to pick set locations.

A rustle down below caught her attention. River readied her rifle as she scanned the area again.  _Walker_. This was her chance to redeem herself. The Walker hadn't spotted her yet so she got into a more stable kneeling position and lined up the shot. Her finger was on the trigger, all she had to do was  _squeeze._

Before she got a chance the Walker's body crumpled to a heap on the ground.  _What the hell?_  River stood staring in disbelief.  _That bastard! It couldn't be..._  She made sure the safety was back on and lifted her rifle to confirm through the scope as she wasn't carrying binoculars. Sure enough, there was a crossbow bolt pierced through the side of the creature's head.

Furious River stormed down the other side of the ridge, Liam right at her heels. "Dixon!" She hollered. "Dixon, get your ass out here!"

"Quit yer yellin'," Daryl warned as he stepped out of the bush on the other side of the dead Walker. "Yer gonna go an git every Walker fer miles on our ass."

"You killed my Walker," River accused, fire in her eyes.

"Yer Walker?" Daryl looked quizzically at the young woman.

"Yes, my Walker."

"Dun' see yer name on it," Daryl observed placing his foot on the side of its skull and pulling the bolt free.

River pointed up to the ridge where she'd been playing fetch with Liam. "I spotted it from up on top of the ridge. I was just about to shoot it when you came along with your damned crossbow!" She fumed.

"Knew I shoulda jus' left ya t' th' Walkers like I said I was gonna," Daryl groaned.  _Damn woman was a pain the ass._

"I would have had it."

"Uhuh. An ya make sure yer safety was off this time?" Daryl smirked. "Wouldn't wanna have t' tell yer two boyfriends back at camp I letcha git bit."

"Screw you, eh!" River scowled. "I did not need your help! This Walker was a hundred yards off and had no idea I was even there."

"Sure ya can even shoot tha' far?" Daryl raised an eyebrow.

River's green eyes narrowed. "You are such an ass." Someday, somehow she would prove herself to him.


	6. Missing Merle

 

Each member of the trio was having their own problems making a place for themselves in the Atlanta Camp. Jason was struggling with his anxiety and social phobia. However, in Amy he has found a reason to try and overcome his fears. River who was used to fending for herself in the isolated North feels suffocated and yearns for the freedom to roam. Again she had found herself outdone by Daryl, strengthening her resolve to prove she doesn't need his help. Dane, always taking the weight of the world on his shoulders, had left with Glenn and the scavenging party. When they had seen an idiot ride in on a horse and get trapped in a tank on the streets below they had risked their lives to save him. Now they had to find a way out of the city alive.

"For Christ's sake, give me that," Dane couldn't stand it.  _These guys were a bunch of pussies._  He took the axe from Rick's hands and raised it above his head. There was no hesitation. It hit the corpse with a sickening splat. Again, and again.

"Oh god," Andrea turned a pale shade of green and covered her mouth.

Rick cringed. "You really should be wearing a face shield," he warned, holding one out. He extended his arm and turned his head an ill expression on his face.

"What for? This shit's like rabies," Dane drew the comparison to a disease he was very familiar with in his line of work. "You don't get it from getting a little blood splattered on you, you get it from being bit. It's in the saliva."

"Willing to bet your life on that?" Rick questioned the trapper. Dane just lifted the axe and swung again. "We don't know that's the only way," Rick protested. "You can get it from a scratches too."

Glenn was groaning, both hands on his head. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

Dane chuckled. "And you're volunteering to go out there covered in this shit?"

The Asian boy was having second thoughts as they smeared the Walker guts over him. "Oh this is bad, this is really bad."

Reaching into his elbows Dane scooped up entrails and hung them over his shoulders. "Make sure you slap it on good and thick, you don't want them smelling you."

Glenn just closed his eyes and tried to pretend this wasn't happening. Rick, at least, was taking it much better. "Let's do this," Dane said a little too cheerfully. In his head that thing wasn't a human, might as well never have been a human. It was no different than gutting any number of critter.  _Except, maybe, the stench._

* * *

River rolled over and nestled her head into Liam's warm fur. The Chesapeake's broad chest rose and fell in a steady, soothing rhythm. "Hey JJ?" she called out.

Jason had a long stick that he was using to poke embers in the fire causing the sparks to dance. He looked at River. Sometimes it was hard to remember she was almost a decade older than him. The woman looked younger than her twenty eight years, hair braided, laying in the dirt with her dog.

"You know what we should do later in the fall, maybe towards the end of November I was thinking?" River asked her head resting on Liam like a pillow.

Jason grunted. "What's that, Tom?"

"We should take a week or two and go up into the alpine. Pull the traps if we have to. Hunt some mountain goat or some mountain sheep."

Jason chewed it over. "I sure would love to get a bighorn ram," he admitted. It had always been a dream of his.

A massive grin spread across River's face. "Is that a yes? You'll help me convince your big brother to spend some time away from the line?"

"Sure." It'd been a while since the three of them had gone on a major hunt together. Usually it was just a couple days here and a couple days there. Dane was driving them harder and harder during trapping season. It's when they made most of their yearly income. Especially true of River who had trouble holding down a regular job.

"How can you be making plans like that?" A disbelieving voice cut in. It was Carol, standing her head tilted slightly to the side, mouth barely open, eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

Jason dropped his head and fiddled nervously with the stick he was holding. He hadn't heard her approach their peaceful little corner of camp. And having Merle out and about with Glenn's scavenging party it really was peaceful. Just him, River and the dog.

River looked up bewildered. "What?"

"Everything's gone. The world is gone." There was a desperate sadness in her voice. "How can you be making plans like nothing happened?"

_Except everything wasn't gone_. Not for Autumn River Thompson. Not for the Jackson brothers. River shrugged. "I've always wanted to hunt mountain goat. Besides, this'll all have blown over by then," she said without much concern.

"Look around you," Carol insisted. "This isn't going to just blow over. Everyone's dead. This is it. Life as we knew it is over."

Dane's voice echoed in her head. "Life doesn't end just 'cause bad shit happens," River mumbled, barely above a whisper.

Jason had been six when he met River. He remembered Dane saying that to her a lot back then. At the time she'd gone by the name Autumn. Jason misheard when his big brother introduced her. He'd dubbed her Tom-Tom, thinking Dane had said Tom Thompson. The nickname stuck.

It'd become something like their motto. Jason had heard it a lot himself years later.  _Life doesn't end just 'cause bad shit happens._

* * *

Up ahead the screeching wail of the car alarm had stopped. It was no longer echoing off the hills and drilling it's way into his head. Glenn must have made it back to camp. Dane breathed a sigh of relief and massaged his temples. Damn racket had been giving him a headache.

Dane was pissed. River was going to be doubly pissed. For whatever reason she'd grown fond of the redneck asshole, much as she claimed to hate his guts.  _Maybe she did, damn near impossible to figure out a woman's brain, anyhow._ Daryl,  _well_   _shit_ , he didn't want to be there to see his reaction.

Several minutes later Rick pulled the cube van into camp. Dane stepped out. Everyone was gathered around the little red sports car Glenn had stolen. The Asian boy had the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. It was good to see someone happy.  _Especially,_ Dane thought,  _since_   _there was a whole lotta unhappy on the way_.

Jason immediately looked for Andrea among the returning members of the scavenging party. To his great relief she was there. Amy would be happy, and if Amy was happy then he was happy. A smile crossed his face as he watched the sister's tearful reunion from a distance.

"You really like her, eh?" River observed, watching the younger brother.

If anyone else had said it, Jason's face would have flushed instantly. Not River. "Is it that obvious?"

River nodded. She was about to say something more when Dane stalked by. He said nothing, but he looked pissed.  _Uh_   _oh_.

"Dane?" Jason called after his brother.

River's attention had quickly drifted away from the returning member of their trio. She was searching.  _Something's_   _wrong_. "Dane?" She called after him too. He didn't answer. "Dane, where's Merle?" There was a hint of panic in her voice.

_How in God's almighty name was he supposed to answer that?_  Dane slumped on top of a crate by the fire. "On a roof in Atlanta," he mumbled.

"Pardon?"

Dane closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. This was a conversation he did not want to be having. "He's on a roof in Atlanta," he repeated reluctantly.

Tears brimmed in River's eyes. "What do you mean he's on a roof in Atlanta? Dane?" The pitch of her voice was raising with every word. "What, _exactly_  do you mean? You were all supposed to come back."

Dane sighed. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a hysterical River. "Look, Tom, just don't freak out, okay?" He went on to explain what had happened on the roof and when they had returned with the cube van. "I tried, River. I tried," Dane shook his head but he couldn't shake the guilt he felt. "I wanted to go back for him, but Rick was right, with that horde of Walkers we all would have ended up dead."

River bit back tears and chewed on her lip. Jason reached across and laid a hand on her arm. Her fists we clenched into tight little balls. She was trying.  _God was she trying_ , Dane thought. For a moment he actually believed she might just hold it together and act reasonable.

Abruptly River stood.  _So much for that idea_. All sadness drained from her face and was replaced by a cold, hard anger. She cautiously laid her rifle down before turning.  _Thank the Lord for small favors_.

"Tom... Don't...," Jason practically pleaded with her. She ignored him and started very deliberately towards the happy reunion the rest of the camp was engaging in.  _Shit_.

"River!" Dane called sharply trying to divert her attention. It was no use.

"Rick! Where's the asshole named Rick Grimes!" River half hollered, half growled. Her chest was heaving up and down, fists clenched.

Lori pulled her son back into her arms and covered his ears. She shot an accusatory glare across at the young woman causing the ruckus. River was oblivious.

"I'm Rick," the newcomer started. "What seems to be the problem?" He asked in that classic police officer tone. He studied her, puzzled by the utter contempt directed toward him by a woman he'd never met.

"Really?" River rushed towards Rick and shoved him as hard as she could. She caught the officer off guard and he stumbled backwards."You really need to ask what the fucking problem is?" she spat in disbelief.

Lori's eye's widened in surprise. "River!" she gasped, torn between running in to defend her husband or keeping hold of her son.

The crowd was circling around them. Even Jason had huddled around and was waiting in the wing with his brother.  _Shit was about to hit the fan_. They could grab her, haul her puny ass over to the tent, but all they'd be doing was postponing the inevitable. Best just let her get it out of her system. Still they were ready, just in case.

"Look," he said holding his palms up in a non-threatening gesture. "If this is about Merle Dixon..."

River was practically vibrating. "Of course this is about Merle!" she snapped.

Rick shot Morales a look that begged the question:  _I thought you said the only person who would be upset was Daryl Dixon?_ First it was Dane Jackson in the truck, and now this. Morales just shrugged, there was no other response he could give. Why anyone would give a shit about one of the Dixons was beyond him.

"Now you have to understand," Rick tried to soothe her.  _No she didn't have to fucking understand_. That was her friend he'd left up on that rooftop. "Merle left me no choice."

_That was the official party line, wasn't it_. She would hear the same thing again and again. Word. For. Word. "You always have a choice!" River snarled and shoved him again, this time Rick was ready and had his stance wide and his feet firmly planted. "You just  _chose_  to leave a human being handcuffed to some roof in the middle of that hell hole of a city to die."

Jason went to take a step forward and Dane laid a hand on his arm. "Let her," he whispered shaking his head ever so slightly. Shane who had also been ready to step in took the cue and held back. River was just hurting. As long as Rick didn't push back she wasn't going to get out of hand.

"Man, it's as much my fault as it is Rick's," T-Dog offered to take some of the blame. "I'm the one who dropped the key."

River glared at him. "Did you mean drop it?"

"No," T-Dog answered. "Man, hell no." He may have hated the racist bastard,  _but what kind of man did she think he was?_

"Well see here T-Dog," River explained very slowly, "that makes what you did an accident." She looked pointedly at Rick, the fire in her voice directed at him. "Now handcuffing him to the roof, that there doesn't just happen. That's a pretty damn purposeful action." Her eyes narrowed and she took a step towards the newcomer who had strategically put some distance back between them.

"Look, I may not like how things turned out," Rick said defensively. "But Merle Dixon, he was out of control and if I had to do it over again I would still handcuff him to that roof." He stuck to his guns. No point acting contrite.  _He had made the right call_. Rick didn't doubt that, not for a second.

River couldn't see past the fact that her friend, if you could even call Merle that, hadn't come back and this Rick Grimes was the one she blamed. And he had the nerve to stand there and act like he'd done nothing wrong. Her fists clenched so hard her knuckles went white.

"You need to calm down," Shane warned, at the ready again. The girl didn't seem to hear him.

"That's a fucking human being," River growled taking another step forward. "Don't you dare stand there and spout your lines and act like this is ok," she was starting to yell. When he didn't back down she sobbed hysterically and placed her palms on his chest and tried to push him again. The officer didn't budge. River gave up and sank to the ground crying. "You left him there to die," she kept repeating between sobs.

Everyone stood around awkwardly not knowing what to do or how to respond.  _A grown bloody woman_. Dane walked over to where River was sitting and looked down. "You done?"

River nodded, "Ya." She was utterly spent.

"I know you're upset about losing Merle, but Rick's a good guy. He was just looking out for the group." Dane tried to reason with her.

"I don't care!" River wailed starting to wind up all over again.

"Tom..."

"What?"

"You're being irrational."

"I know."

"Are you going to stop?"

River let out a resigned sigh. "Yes."

"Good. C'mon, stop acting like a God damned two year old and get up off the ground." Dane reached down looping her through the elbow and helped her up. He knew better what she needed than she did. He'd been watching out for her for thirteen years. Dane was her rock.

* * *

Two steps forward, one step back. Jason sighed and turned away yet again. It must be nice, for everyone else, to just be able to walk up and talk to someone. It was tiring,  _really tiring,_  living inside his head sometimes. He wished he could be like them, wanted nothing more than to just be able to have a normal conversation with someone other than his brother or River. He had almost had that with Merle, but Merle was gone. Not to mention Amy was different. He  _liked_  her.

_This time, this was going to be the time,_ Jason thought as he walked forward again. Amy had her back to him. Her long blonde hair hanging down her back, glistening golden in the sunlight. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out, he just couldn't. Before he could turn to walk away Amy spun around.

"JJ?" Amy asked, startled. "You're so quiet. Don't sneak up on me like that," she scolded.

"Sorry," he mumbled unable to meet her eyes. He did have a hunter's stalk, not that he did it on purpose to sneak up on her. It was just habit.

"You were right," Amy smiled.

Jason tried to smile back. It came out half smile, half grimace. "Told you she'd be okay," he managed to squeak out.

"I never should have doubted you."

"I'll let it slide," he joked awkwardly, "this time."

Amy laughed. A bit of tension eased itself and Jason found himself grinning too.

"What's so funny?" Andrea cut in as she returned from the RV.

"Nothing," Amy laughed again and glanced back at Jason who was nervously drawing designs in the dirt with his foot.

"Didn't look like nothing," her sister teased.

Amy ignored her. "So JJ...," she called trying to get his attention again.

He peaked up squinting with one eye, "Eh?"

"Am I going to see you fishing at the quarry tomorrow?" Amy's bright eyes were hopeful. "Seems we always miss you," she smiled. Amy knew he'd been purposefully going at odd hours. It was kind of adorable how nervous he got, even if it was a little frustrating at times.

_Oh dear God_. "Um..." Jason hesitated. He had to do this. Who was he kidding, he liked Amy and he couldn't keep avoiding her indefinitely. "Ya, I guess so," he agreed reluctantly. His stomach tied itself in knots.  _Too late, already committed._

* * *

It was too quiet by their tent. Just her and the dog. River pouted as she rummaged through the bags for the last of the noodles. Liam watched her intently. Sensing that something was wrong. He sauntered over to her, letting out a whine and nudging her hand.

"Not now Liam," River dismissed him.

Undeterred the Chesapeake stuck his wet, cold nose in her hand and gave it a flip, whining again.

River closed her eyes and sighed.

* * *

The sun was down. Dane and Jason had gone to join some of the others around the main campfire. Dane nudged his younger brother and winked, "Told you Amy would be here." Jason's pulse quickened. He didn't know if he was happy about that or not.

Amy looked up as the two boys approached. "JJ! Dane!" she called. "Nice of you to join us." She patted the bench seat next to where she was huddled up to her sister. Jason gulped. He was trapped between her and his brother. He had no choice so he sat down. His body was stiff and awkward.

Dane glanced around and the rest of the survivor's camp. He felt bad about what had happened earlier. But at the same time, he couldn't really fault the girl. Leaving Merle behind  _was_  wrong, even if he couldn't come up with a reasonable alternative that would have worked. Still, his guilt ate at him. He closed his eyes and zoned out.

"Disorientated," Rick said stroking his boys hair. Dane opened his eyes. Carl looked so content in his father's arms. "Fear, confusion, all those things," the officer admitted. "But I think disorientated comes closest." He'd been telling them of his experiences searching for his family. The guy had woken up in a coma in the middle of a freaking apocalypse. Hello end of the world. What a thing to wake up to.

"Words can be meager things," Dale noted. "Sometimes they fall short."  _Wasn't that the truth_.

"I feel like I've been ripped out of my life. Put somewhere else." A look of understanding circulated around the fire.

It occurred to Dane they might be the only ones sitting there who didn't get it. For Jason, River and himself life was just going on. Things were weird, no doubt there. But their lives hadn't changed all that much. Here in the sweltering Georgia heat or back in the sub-arctic they called home, life went on.

"For a while. I thought I was trapped in some coma dream. Something I might not wake up from, ever." Lori grasped her husband's hand and clutched it against the side of her face.

Carl tilted his head back and looked up at his father. "Mom said you died." A pang of sympathy and understanding coursed through Dane for what that kid must have gone through. The boy was about the same age Jason had been when they'd lost their dad.

"She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it."

"You got him back," Dane smiled across at Carl. "You both did," he added looking up from the boy to his mother.

Uncomfortably Lori shifted her gaze, glancing across the fire at Shane. The deputy looked to the ground.

They talked about Atlanta falling and Rick getting left at the hospital. Dane and Jason looked at each other. How the hell did this guy ever make it out alive, and then to find his family, alive and okay. It was a bloody miracle.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you Shane," Rick said after listening to his wife and partner recall the events. Rick gave a small sincere nod. "I can't begin to express...," the officer choked up unable to finish his sentence.

"There go those words falling short again," Dale offered a weak smile from under his hat. "Paltry things."

There was a long silence. Lori looked across at the Jackson brothers and realized that someone was missing. "Where's River?" she asked glad to be changing the topic and taking the focus off of her and her husband.

Dane shrugged.

"You don't know where she is?"

Dane shook his head.

Andrea looked appalled. "Aren't you worried about her?"

"Nope. Tom can take of herself." He had no doubt.

Amy turned to Jason who was sitting beside her, "What about you, aren't you scared she'll get attacked by a Walker."

"No." It was all he could choke out.

"She needs some time by herself," Dane added.

"What the hell was that earlier?" Lori asked the question that had been on all their minds since the woman's meltdown.

Dane sighed. "She doesn't deal well with losing people." Lori raised her eyebrows.

"I'd say that's a bit of an understatement," Dale commented.

Shane agreed with the old man. "Ya, I'd say."

Dane frowned. River had history. Him and Jason had been dealing with her shit since she was fifteen. They were used to it.

* * *

River dumped half of the noodles out for Liam, then started towards the center of camp. Her knees trembled as she took her steps. She closed her eyes clenched her hands, willing her body to steady.

"Cold don't change the rules does it?" Shane's voice cut through the darkness.

_Shane and his god damned rules_. "There's too many rules in this camp," River grumbled under her breath to herself.

"Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"

"It's cold," Ed repeated nonchalantly. "Why don't you mind yer own business for once?"

_Uhg_. Ed was sitting around the second campfire with his wife and daughter. That man made River's hair stand on end. She wished he'd just fall in the lake and drown. No way would she dive in to save him.

Shane got up and stormed over to the other fire. River decided to stand back and wait in case sparks flew. She sort of hoped they would. She'd love nothing more than to see the two men get into it and Shane to kick his sorry ass.

"Hey Ed," Shane called. "You sure you wanna have this conversation, man?"

"Go on. Pull that thing out," he ordered Carol. "Go on." Carol sat unsure for a moment and then submissively jumped to her husbands beckoning and pulled the log out of the fire then returned quickly to her place next to Sophia.

Shane turned his attention to the rest of the Peletier family. "Hey There Carol, Sophia. How are you all this evening?" the deputy asked crouching down and offering them a friendly smile.

"Fine. We're just fine." Carol looked to her husband who was glaring across at her. "Sorry about the fire," she apologized for his behavior.

"No, no, no," Shane insisted. "No apology needed." River cocked her head to the side. He may have a lot of rules, but he was alright for an authority figure. "You all have a good night, okay."

Carol offered a weak smile and nodded. "Thank you," she said just above a whisper.

"Appreciate the cooperation," Shane said to Ed, his voice dripping with disgust, as he walked back to the other fire.

River waited a couple minutes then went in. "Hi Carol, Sophia," she smiled, trying to ignore Ed's eyes boring into the back her skull. She shuddered. She could feel his glare. Tuning it out she handed the last of the noodles to the little girl.

Hunger gnawed at Sophia's belly. Eagerly she took the food offered to her and dug in.

"What do you say," Carol admonished her daughter.

Swallowing the mouthful of food Sophia paused and thanked River.

"You're welcome," River smiled at her.

"River," Carol frowned. "Thank you for doing this, but..." she paused and looked the woman over, "are you sure you're getting enough yourself?" Her motherly concern was sweet.

"Of course," River lied. Her knees felt like they were going to buckle underneath her. All she wanted was to get out of there before Carol noticed how shaky she was.

* * *

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon," Dale asked as Shane returned. "He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

"No, no he won't." Dane had been dreading Daryl's reaction himself.

"I'll tell him," T-Dog offered. "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him," Rick disagreed. "That makes it mine."

"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn reminded them. "I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"It's n-n-not going to sound good n-no matter who it comes from," Jason pointed out. Everyone turned and stared at him. That just might have been the longest sentence any of them had heard him utter since he arrived in camp. All eyes on him made his stomach churn and he looked away uncomfortably again.

"I did what I did. I have nothing to hide from," T-Dog insisted. He had no problem owning what he'd done.

River walked in and slumped down next to Dane and rested her head on his arm.

"You done being mad?" Dane whispered to her.

"No."

Dane tilted his head to the side and stared her in the eyes. "No? What are you doing here then?"

"It's lonely by myself over at the tent," she admitted.

"We could lie," Amy offered, back on the topic of Daryl and Merle.

Dane shook his head. "We're not going to lie."

"Or tell the truth," her sister Andrea countered, backing Dane up. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed." She was adamant. River glared. "Your husband did the right thing," she told Lori. "If Merle got left behind it was nobody's fault but Merle's."

River let out a dramatic sigh, obviously disagreeing with the woman. "Don't start," Dane cautioned her.

"And that"s what we tell Daryl?" Dale asked skeptically. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that." He shook his head and looked to Andrea. "Do you?"

River scoffed. Everyone else lowered their heads and no one spoke up.

"Word to the wise," Dale warned. "We're going to have our hands full when Daryl gets back from his hunt."  _Good_ , River thought,  _you all deserve it_. A noise something like a cross between a laugh and a snort escaped Jason.  _Understatement of the year, or what_.

"I can talk to him," Dane offered. He'd failed Merle on that rooftop. It shouldn't have gone down like that. There had to have been something he could have done, something he could have said to talk some sense into him before things got out of hand. Maybe he could make it up to him by watching out for his brother.

"What makes you think it'll do any good," Rick wondered.

"We're alike," Dane told him. Jason nodded. There was a bond. From separate ends of the continent, but they were still backwoodsmen. It's probably why they'd gravitated together despite what a asshole Merle had been from the get go. There was just that understanding.

Andrea scoffed. "You're nothing like those racist pigs."

"No," Rick shook his head. "It should be me."

"I was scared and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it," T-Dog confessed.

"We were all scared. We all ran," Andrea pointed out. "What's your point?"

"I stopped long enough to chain that door," T-Dog admitted. Everyone's gaze fell on the big black man. River held her breathe in anticipation.

"What?" Dane asked.

"Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. Not enough to break through it," T-Dog explained. "Not that chain. Not that padlock," he stated confidently. "My point is Dixon's alive." Disbelief hung over the group. "He's still up there handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." No one knew what to say.

_Trailer Trash was alive_. River jumped up and raced to their tent in the darkness.

"God damn it," Dane looked at his brother. The two of them set off after her.

River was frantically rummaging through the bags. Stuff was strewn all over the tent.

"Tom?" Dane called out gently to her.

"Where are they?" River demanded staring defiantly at the two brothers.

 

"Where's what?" Jason asked.

River glared. "Don't play dumb. Where are the keys to the jeep?"

"It's the middle of the night, Tom," Dane pointed out.

"So?"

"You can't go into the city in the dark," Jason added, " It's too dangerous."

"Merle's up there on that roof!" River hollered back.

"You heard what T-Dog said, eh?" Jason reminded her. "He padlocked that door."

"If Merle's still alive, he'll still be there in the morning," Dane reasoned. "At least then there'll be some light and you'll stand a chance of coming back in one piece." River said nothing but she stopped searching through their stuff.

"Okay?"

River grimaced. "Okay," she agreed reluctantly. Dane breathed a sigh of relief. He'd bought them some time, but he had no idea what he was going to do with River in the morning. They might just be stuck going on a little road trip back into Atlanta. That woman was as stubborn as a mule.


	7. Deputies vs. Dixons

 

The scavenging party had succeeded in escaping Atlanta, except Merle had been left behind. For those who had left him their own guilt ate at each of them. Dane, especially felt that he had failed him on that rooftop. When they had returned River had blown up, blaming the new guy Rick for handcuffing him there. However, upon hearing that T-Dog had chained the door shut her hope was renewed and she was ready to run out and rescue him. The more responsible Dane wouldn't let her leave to the city on her own in the dark. All around, tensions were high between the trio of Canadians and the other members of the group.

It was just before dawn. The sun wasn't even up yet, but River was. Impatiently she nudged Dane in his sleeping bag. "Rise and shine," she pestered him. She'd been poking and prodding at him for over an hour.

Dane groaned and rolled over. "Damn it, Tom, go back to sleep."  _Hell, she hadn't even gone to sleep yet_. Her mind was in overdrive. Merle was in that city, sitting helpless up on some rooftop.

"Give me the keys and I'll leave you alone, let you sleep," River offered to cut him a deal.

"No," Dane refused yet again. "I'm not letting you wander into that city in the dark." He'd been there, he knew what it was like.

"You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do," River protested. "I'm not a child."

"Then stop acting like one," Dane snapped back grouchily. He could feel River's glare through the darkness.

"Both of you," Jason hissed, "would you please shut up." Pulling his sleeping bag over his head and covering his ears he prayed for silence.

River huffed and left the tent. Liam went with her.

"God, she's a pain in the ass," Dane muttered.

"I'm serious, be quiet," Jason groaned. "Bad enough listening to her all freaking night."

Neither brother had got a good nights sleep with River tossing and turning next to them, grumbling the entire night. Her departure was a much needed break. The atmosphere in the tent changed and they were able to lay down their heads and get a couple hours of good, restful sleep. They were going to need it.

* * *

Jason stretched and looked around the tent. It was empty. He got himself dressed and headed out to see what the plan was.

Everything was going on as usual in the Atlanta Survivor's camp. Carol was folding laundry. Glenn was watching sadly as Dale and Jim stripped the gorgeous red sports car he'd stolen. Rick was talking to Lori as she hung laundry to dry. It was if nothing was wrong.

Shane pulled up in the black jeep, returning from down in the quarry. "Water's here y'all," he hollered to the camp. "Just a reminder to boil before use." Jason rolled his eyes.  _Did people really need to be told that_?

Then it occurred to him. The jeep. Not the little black jeep, but him and his brother's gorgeous pumpkin orange piece of machinery... It was missing. So was Dane, River and Liam. The bastards, they'd just up and left him there without so much as a word.

With nothing else to do, Jason threw a pot of water on the fire to boil then headed to the forest to grab some fresh pine boughs to make some tea. Pine was an excellent source of vitamin C. It was just one of those habits he'd picked up spending months living out of the network of cabins on their trap line. Protein was never a problem, but you wanted to stay healthy in the bush in the winter you learned to develop a taste for certain other things.

Amy was across the camp hanging laundry to dry with her sister. Jason sighed. Cautiously he made his way over to her with a hot, steaming cup of tea. "Uh, Amy?"

The young blonde looked up from her work and smiled. "Morning JJ."

"I...I... Uh," Jason was struggling with the words so he just held out the cup.

Amy stared into the cup uncertainly. "What is it?" she asked.

"Just drink it," Andrea nudged her sister and gave her a wink.

"It's, uh..." Jason was sweating. Embarrassed, he wiped his hands on his jeans. This always happened to him and he hated it. "It's tea." He squinted at Amy and waited.

Tentatively Amy took a sip. Her face scrunched up. It was awful.

Andrea who had been watching her intently let out a little laugh. Immediately she brought her hand up to her mouth, knowing how hard it must have been for Jason to do what he'd done.

Seeing the hurt on Jason's face Amy tried to cover up her dislike of the tea, "That's err, really sweet of you, JJ. Thanks."

Jason laughed uncomfortably. What he really wanted to do was run, but he hadn't done that. Not since the incident fishing at the quarry. "I... I d-didn't like it at f-first either, but it's g-g-good for you."

"Right," Amy said. She'd stick to plain old-fashioned water.

"Maybe it'll grow on you," Jason suggested, managing to pull off the whole sentence without stuttering. Slowly he was easing up around these people.

Amy forced herself to nod, but in her head she was daydreaming about Starbucks. A nice vanilla chai latte with skim milk. Hot, sweet, a little spicy and absolutely delicious. This backwoods stuff would never cut it.

The low rumble of the Jackson's jeep gave Jason the perfect excuse to get out of there. Dane came barreling in and parked it next to the little black jeep. Little being the operative word. It was dwarfed by it's modified cousin. A sick feeling grew in the pit of Jason's stomach as he made his way closer. "Where's Tom?" he asked, seeing only one occupant in the vehicle.

"You mean she's not back yet?" Dane looked surprised.

Jason shook his head.  _That'd be a negative_. "Where'd she go?"

 _That was the million dollar question_. Dane shrugged. "I have no idea. I'd thought maybe she'd headed off towards Atlanta on foot."

Jason snorted. "That sounds like something Tom would do."

"So I went for a little drive, checked the roads, but I didn't see any sign of her." There was a hint of worry in Dane's voice.

* * *

Daryl was nearing the top of the ridge. Strapping his crossbow to his back he got down on his belly and waited for the winds to be right. Silently he crawled the rest of the way. He'd been tracking that there doe for miles. Every time he got close the wind would shift and she'd pick up on his scent and take off again.

There she was, oblivious to his presence, munching on some leaves. Would make a damn fine meal when he got her back to camp. Bringing himself into a crouching position he readied his crossbow. The damn thing moved just as he released the bolt. Ain't no way it was gonna be a clean kill. Quickly he loaded another and let it fly but the deer was gone.

Daryl cursed under his breath and made his way to where she'd been. There was no choice now but to follow the blood trail. No way was he letting that much meat get away. The hell if he knew why he gave a damn if these assholes ate or not anyways. But that was gonna be some mighty tasty venison right there. Beat the hell outta squirrel, that's for sure.

Daryl had plenty of experience tracking game, so there was no trouble finding the doe again. Once he was in position he lined up the shot and took it. The bolt pierced the deer's rib cage. The doe leapt outta sight once more. Didn't matter. Daryl knew before he even saw the frothy pink blood trail that it was a killing shot, straight through the animal's lungs. The hunter slung his crossbow over his shoulder and set off to retrieve his game. They was gonna be eating good tonight.

"Mom! Dad!" Daryl could barely make out the screams, the woods absorbed the sound.  _Was that Lori's little brat?_  He listened closely but there was nothing. Shit. Must've just been hearing things. Either way, that kid wasn't his problem. Wasn't nothing gonna distract him from his goal.

Wouldn't ya know it. The damn doe had ran practically straight into camp. Probably right around that rock. Daryl trudged through the thick underbrush and came out into the clearing where the deer had finally died.  _The hell?_  Half the God damned camp was standing around, wielding weapons, staring at him like he was one of em flesh-eating bastards.

"Oh Jesus," Shane muttered, shotgun in his hand.

 _Whatever_. Then Daryl looked down at his deer. You gotta be kidding. "Son of a bitch that's my deer," the hunter objected looking disgusted. "Look at it all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy bastard." With every word he kicked the corpse of the Walker venting his anger.

"Calm down son," Dale frowned from under his hat. "That's not helping."

As if Daryl was gonna listen to some dumbass geriatric. "What d'ya know about it old man?" he growled advancing towards Dale. "Why don'tcha take tha' stupid hat an' go back t' On Golden Pond?" Returning to his kill Daryl lamented, "Been trackin' this deer fer miles. Was gonna drag it back t' camp, cook us up some venison." Examining the animal, he paused. "What d'ya think... think we can cut aroun' this chewed up part right here?"

"I would not risk that," Shane warned.

"That's a damn shame," Daryl drawled. What a waste of a good animal. "Well I got some squirrel," he informed them, glad he hadn't come back entirely empty handed. "'Bout a dozen or so. It'll have to do."

* * *

"Shit, Dane, what do we do?" Jason frowned.

"Not much we can do," his big brother responded dejectedly. "Tom's gonna do what Tom's gonna do. I tried looking for her, but I don't even know if she'll take the main roads into the city. Kind of unlikely."

Jason didn't want to ask the next question, didn't want to know the answer. "Just how bad, exactly, is it in Atlanta? Assuming she gets that far?"

Dane furrowed his eyebrows. "It's pretty bad," he said truthfully.

"Do her and Liam stand a chance?"

"Doubt it." Both their hearts sank.

"Merle! Merle!" Daryl's voice carried through the camp. One problem straight to another. Dane winced. This was the moment he'd been dreading.

"Time to get out the popcorn," Jason rolled his eyes. Dane glared at him.

"Getch yer ass out here," Daryl hollered. "Got us some squirrel. Stew em up."

"Hey Daryl," Shane called after him. "Hold up. I need to talk to you."

"'Bout what?" Daryl snarled back at the deputy.

Dane tried to cut in, "Hey Shane, maybe you should let..."

Shane ignored him. "About Merle. There was a," he paused considering how best to phrase this. "There was a problem in Atlanta."

The whole damn camp had gathered around to watch the drama that was about to ensue. Hell, Jim was actually leaning on the little black jeep like is was some kind of show. Jason's jab about the popcorn suddenly seemed entirely appropriate. Rick was walking towards the center of the action. This just got better and better.

"He dead?" Daryl choked out, clutching the string of squirrels tightly in his hand.

"We're not sure," Shane admitted. Said aloud it really did sound pretty terrible.

Daryl circled Shane menacingly. "He either is or he ain't."  _It was pretty god damned black or white_.

* * *

River placed one shaky foot in front of the other. This last mile felt like the longest mile she'd ever walked. Liam trotted along happily beside her. Every now and then she'd have to stop and use his powerful, steady shoulders as a brace to hold herself up. Dane and Jason had been right. As much as it tore her apart to see that little girl going hungry, she was no good to any of them like this.

"Almost there, buddy," she informed Liam as they stepped out onto the rocky edge at the top of the quarry. Really though, it was herself she was reassuring. A few more steps and they should be able to see the camp.

Down below Daryl turned away trying to hide the torrent of emotions he was feeling.  _Merle was all he had_ , he thought, a bit teary eyed.  _All he'd ever had_. Daryl wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist. "Hold on, let me process this..." he said, his voice wavering as he spoke. "You said you handcuffed my brother t' a roof..." Daryl could hardly make sense of the words as he repeated them. "And you left him there?" he shouted the question in Rick's face.

Daryl's angry voice carried up to where River was plodding weakly along with Liam.  _Shit. Oh shit_. That meant Daryl was back from his hunt and had just found out they were one Dixon short. A surge of adrenaline coursed through River's veins. Dropping what she was carrying she bolted back towards camp.

The camp came into view just in time for River to see a string of squirrels flying through the air towards that asshole Rick Grimes, followed by Daryl's fist. The latter never connected seeing as Shane tackled him to the ground. River was running as fast as she could. Liam passed her, barking at the commotion down below. Jason and Dane both turned in unison.

"Liam?" Jason snagged the dog by the collar. "Settle boy. Where's Tom?" The dog turned his head and looked behind him, more used to hearing his master referred to as Tom than River.

"Watch the knife!" Rick heard the warning just in time to dodge Daryl's swing.  _Control the knife arm_ , that was what he had to do. He held on tightly until Shane was able to subdue Daryl in a choke hold.

"Tom!" Dane called out surprised and relieved to see the young woman running towards them.  _Thank God she hadn't run off to Atlanta on her own_.

"Best let me go," Daryl warned.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't," Shane said as he wrestled the redneck to the ground.

"Choke holding's illegal," Daryl cried out.

Dane bit his lip. It wasn't pleasant to see Daryl like that. It wasn't  _right_. The guy had just been told his brother was left for dead, he was hurting. Bad. It was a repeat of the God damned roof, though. To let him go was to put everyone in danger.

"File a complaint," Shane said in dry sarcasm. "Come on now, I can keep this up all day." Daryl was grunting and wheezing as he struggled to free himself from Shane's hold.

"Let him go!" River wailed as she ran past Dane and Jason.

Not having forgotten River's little performance the previous day, Shane warned, "Someone better grab her!"

Dane quickly wrapped his arms around her waist. "No!" River hollered straining against his strong muscles. "No! No, let me go," she pleaded.

The woman's pleas fell on deaf ears. Rick crouched down to Daryl's level. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic," he informed him. "You think we can manage that?"

"Daryl?" River called out hoping the redneck hunter was okay. All those awful things she'd thought, she took them all back.

A grimace formed on Daryl's face as he squeezed his eyes shut. His breathing was labored in Shane's tight grip.

"Let him go," River whimpered.

"It's okay, Tom," Dane whispered in her ear, his arms still firmly around her waist. He could feel her body trembling.

"You think we can manage that?" Rick repeated his attention fixed on Daryl. There was a firmness in his voice that demanded compliance. With a small nod from his partner, Shane let Daryl go and he fell to the ground.

"What I did was not on a whim," Rick explained. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

"It's not Rick's fault," T-Dog piped up, unable to get over his own guilt. "I had the key. I dropped it."

Daryl was still on the ground, looking utterly disgusted. "You couldn't pick it up?"

River's heart ached. That couldn't be him. That couldn't be the same strong Daryl that kept stealing her kills, that'd saved her life. He looked so broken on the dry, dusty ground of the camp. "Dane, let me go. Please Dane, let me go," she begged, the need to go to Daryl burning inside her.

"I dropped it in a drain," T-Dog expounded on his earlier comment.

Still on his hand and knees Daryl snorted in response and dropped his head.  _This was fucking ridiculous. This couldn't be happening_. Except it was. Getting up he snarled at the big black man. "That supposed to make me feel better?" He asked bitterly. "Well it don't."

"Maybe this will," T-Dog offered. "Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him, with a pad lock."

Rick's tone softened as he took in the hurt on Daryl's face, knowing too well what it felt like to think your family was out there, dead or soon to be, with those monsters walking about. "That's gotta count for something," Rick told him.

Suspecting it to be safe now, Dane let River go. There was no hesitation. She ran to Daryl and reached out for him. "Daryl?"

Callously Daryl swatted the young woman away, "Leave me th' hell alone ya dumb, useless bitch."

River backed off, eyes wide with shock. Again Daryl wiped his eyes.  _He's just hurting_ , River reminded herself, though she wished she could ease that suffering.

"To hell with all y'all," Daryl shouted, swinging his arm in a wide arc. "Just tell me where he is so's I can go git him," his voice cracked. River didn't think she'd ever seen anyone look so despondent. It was heart-breaking. River hand to clench her fists in order to resist the urge grab ahold of him.

Lori was leaning on the door frame of the RV with one arm. Everyone had been so focused on the men it took them by surprise when she spoke up. "He'll show you," she said of her husband. "Isn't that right?"

Rick looked around and nodded. "I'm going back."

Dane walked over to River who was just sort of standing there, not sure what to do, fists in little balls. "Hey," he reached out and out and put a hand on her shoulder.

River turned, there were tears in her eyes. Dane frowned. "We'll get him back," he assured her. All she could do was nod and bury her face in his chest.  _Was it Merle or Daryl she was crying for?_  Even she wasn't sure.

"Where have you been?" Jason cut in.

"Eh?" River turned leaving wet spots on Dane's shirt where she'd been shedding her tears.

"Dane thought you might have taken off to Atlanta on your own," Jason explained what they'd both been afraid of. "Where were you this morning?"

"Oh," River looked around sort of dazed. The adrenaline was wearing off. "Checking the traps. Thought I should probably eat something before we went."

Dane noticed she was still trembling. Shit, he'd thought the trembling he'd felt was just her emotions. "Damn it Tom, thought we told you..."

"I know," she winced.

"Nothing, eh?" Jason frowned. They were all out of noodles, and seeing as a Walker had chomped on what could have been dinner it would have been nice to have some decent meat.

River shook her head. "Got a coon," she grinned proud of herself. Those were her set locations she'd picked.

Jason didn't see any raccoon. "Where is it?" Just what they needed. She was hallucinating, getting delusional.

Confused, River looked around. "Must've dropped it."

Jason exchanged a worried glance with his brother. Apparently Dane had had the same thought.  _Just how long had it been since she'd eaten?_

River was staring back up at the rocky ledge. It seemed to stretch away forever from where she was. That's where she'd heard Daryl, that's where her catch would be laying out in the damned Georgian sun waiting to spoil. There was no way she could climb back up there. Her blood sugar was too low, she'd drop before she made it half way.

Liam was standing there wagging his tail. An idea popped into River's head as she looked at him. "Liam," she called getting his attention. "Dead coon!" she ordered. The dog knew  _dead bird_  from hunting waterfowl with her, and he knew  _coon_  from tracking and treeing raccoons. Chesapeake's were supposed to be smart. Time to see just how clever he was. "Dead coon!" River repeated pointing him in the right direction and hoping he'd be able to put two and two together.

Liam cocked his head to the side for a moment. You could almost see the gears turning inside that thick skull of his. Then something clicked and the dog turned and ran towards the ridge.

"When did you teach him that?" Jason asked, surprised.

"Just now," River grinned.

Preparations were being made for the trip back to Atlanta. River went and sat by the fire pit and waited for Liam to return with her meal. She'd need it if she planned to go with them.

Shane and Rick were in the middle of a heated argument. River thought about sticking the two of them in a pit and letting them fight it out. May the best deputy win. Not that she had any doubt that Shane would kick Rick's ass. That suited her fine, she didn't like Rick too much at the moment.

"Why would you risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?" Shane asked vehemently.

"Hey," Daryl snapped. "Choose your words more carefully

"Oh no, I did," Shane assured him. "Douchebag's what I meant." He huffed and spat the name, "Merle Dixon... guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

"Asshole," River muttered sitting on her crate. Maybe she didn't like Shane too much right now either. Better yet, after they got Merle back she could stick them both in a pit with the Dixons. Deputies versus Rednecks. River smiled at the thought, knowing full well which team she'd be rooting for.

Sure enough Liam returned with River's raccoon. "Nice one," Dane said approvingly.

River had gutted it out in the bush and roughly skinned most of it. She didn't want to leave any waste in camp to draw Walkers in. They did the same out on the trap line to avoid drawing in bears or wolves as much as they could. Slicing off some thin slabs of meat, she skewered them on a stick and set them over the fire.

"JJ!" River called him over.

"Eh?" Jason called back as he approached the fire.

River tossed the remainder of the raccoon corpse at him. Nimbly he caught it. "You're going to watch Liam for me," she informed him. The big city would be too dangerous. She didn't want to risk anything happening to her dog. "Might as well roast that up for lunch. Plenty to go around." Jason didn't argue. Maybe he'd have better luck with the raccoon and Amy than he'd had with the pine needle tea.

Lori was crouching by the fire across from them with Carl. "Eww," the boy wrinkled his nose. "You're going to eat that?"

"Eww's right," Lori agreed.

Most people associated raccoons with the critters that snuck up onto your porch at night and got into your garbage. However, away from urban areas they were one of the better meats. "Ever tried it?" Dane asked, resisting the temptation to roll his eyes at the kid.

"No," Carl admitted.

"Then don't knock it."

Lori couldn't stand it. She looked at her husband getting ready to return to Atlanta. "So you and Daryl, that's your big plan?"

"Doubt River's going to let them go without her," Dane mumbled across the fire. "Which means I'll be going too." Either way he would have been going. He'd failed Merle and he owed it to him.

River was surprised at how many people decided to join the search party. There was Rick, Daryl, Dane and herself. That didn't surprise her too much. However, then there was Glenn and T-Dog, even if Glenn had been a little reluctant to go. With that many people she felt better about their odds.

Not everyone was happy about it, though. "It's not just six," Shane complained. "You're putting every single one of us at risk, just know that Rick. Come on, you saw that walker. It was here, in camp. If they come back we need every able body here to protect camp."

River rolled her eyes. "I wish he'd just shut up. Someone ought to sew his mouth shut."

"You volunteering?" Jason grinned.

"I'll go see if they have a needle and some thread in that RV of Dale's," Dane offered. River laughed. It was tempting.

"They just go and and on, don't they," River whined as everybody debated the merits of the planned trip. "That's a man's life and their bitching about if it's worth it with guns thrown in?"

"I know, Tom," Dane sympathized. "But Merle didn't exactly make any friends here."

River sighed and munched on her fire-roasted raccoon. "I know," she managed between mouthfuls.  _Damn, she was ravenous_. It wasn't until she'd started eating that she'd realized just how hungry she was. At least that dizzy, weak feeling was subsiding.

The blaring horn of the cube van signaled time to go. River took the last of her meat with her and hopped in the back. Dane was just a step behind her.

"C'mon, lets go!" Daryl yelled to the rest of the rescue party.

River stood at the back of the van, "Hey, JJ!"

"Ya?"

"Make sure Liam and Sophia get some of that coon, eh?"

Jason nodded. "And you guys make sure you get your asses back here in one piece," he ordered remembering what Dane had said about Atlanta before.

River smiled, "Would you expect anything less?" The world had ended, but the three of them failed to really recognize the danger they were in every second of every day. Life was just going on.


	8. The Return to Atlanta

 

When Daryl had returned from his hunt to find his brother had been left in Atlanta shit hit the fan all over again. A search party had been formed. Rick, T-Dog and Dane went to absolve their guilt and try and right wrongs. Daryl and River went because they cared. And Glenn, well Glenn went because he didn't have much of a choice. They needed him and his knowledge of the city, and as much as he might hate Merle, the group was important to him and he was willing to make that sacrifice for them. So the six of them had piled into the back of the cube van and set off towards Atlanta once more.

Daryl sat, his back in the corner, fondling his crossbow. His eyes were glued to the man sitting across from him. "He better be okay," he warned T-Dog. "That's my only word on th' matter."

T-Dog glared back at him. "I told you, the geeks can't get at him," he explained for the billionth time. "The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us."

River bounced off the aluminum wall next to T-Dog as Glenn maneuvered the van around a corner.

"Maybe you should take a seat back there," Rick suggested from the passengers seat.

It was like being trapped in a bloody oven in the back of that cube van. "Maybe Glenn should learn to drive," River snapped back. The heat was making her cranky.

"Tom..." Dane scolded, "be nice." River scowled so he reminded her, "Glenn's helping us find Merle, remember." It was true, and Glenn hadn't been terribly happy about it but he came anyhow.

River winced and apologized, "Sorry Glenn."

"Don't worry about it," Glenn shrugged it off. "I'm used to people making fun of my driving. I'm Asian after all, it comes with the territory."

River chuckled. The boy was being a good sport. Besides his driving wasn't all that bad.

"Anyone ever makes fun of your driving," Dane told him as if he'd read River's mind. "You just send them for a ride with my brother. They'll never harass you again. I promise."

"Thanks for the suggestion," Glenn laughed as he looked over his shoulder.

They were barreling down on a corner. "Might want to keep your eyes on the road," Rick suggested.

Back to the task of driving, Glenn spun the wheel sharply to the left. River stumbled and slammed into the opposite wall this time.

"Man, seriously," T-Dog scolded her, "listen to Rick and sit your ass down."

River couldn't help it. She just felt so damned confined.

"Th' hell's her problem?" Daryl growled.

Dane shrugged and responded, "She's like this even in the jeep." At about the same time Glenn put on the break and sent River tumbling forward. She ended up doing a face plant right into the pissed off redneck's arm.

"Damn girl," Daryl griped as he pushed her off him. "Why don'tcha listen t' them fore ya hurt yerself?"

"Shit, sorry," River mumbled hanging onto Daryl's arm for support and trying desperately to right herself.

Dane snickered. "At least in the jeep she's got the roll bar to hang on to."

_Not that I mind holding onto Daryl's muscular arms_ , River thought a smile creeping onto her face. It was quickly replaced with a look of horror when she realized she still had her hands on him and he was looking at her quizzically. He'd noticed.  _Shit, he'd definitely noticed_. Mortified she let go.

Dane caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. "Not. A. Word." River mouthed silently to him.  _She'd murder him, really she would_.

Without warning Glenn put his foot on the accelerator and River lost her balance, stumbling backwards.  _Enough was enough_. Daryl reached out and grabbed her before she fell. Impatiently he picked her up and sat her ass down for her right next to him. "Now ya stay put, alright?"

"We almost there?" River asked feeling instantly claustrophobic. It wasn't small spaces that bothered her, rather any space that she couldn't just leave whenever she felt like it. Now not only was she trapped in the van cooking like a damn casserole, but she was trapped next to one very pissed off Dixon. She could feel the anger radiating off him. A white, hot heat worse than the Georgian sun.

"Almost," Rick assured her from the front. "Maybe you should sit up here on the way back," he threw out there.

Dane nodded in agreement. "That'd probably be a good idea." They had windows up front.  _And seat belts_.

"Uh huh, sure," River agreed, not really hearing what they were saying. There were only two things she was fully aware of. The rising temperature and her proximity to Daryl. She liked it better when she was mad at him, at least she knew what to do with that.

"Do you have to drive through every pothole you see, Glenn?" River whined. "I mean, you got the whole damn road to yourself, yet I swear you're swerving into them on purpose," she complained. The young woman was acutely aware of every bump; the jarring would cause her arm to brush the fabric of Daryl's shirt.  _Damn it, she was acting like a schoolgirl with a silly crush_.

Dane studied Daryl's face. It was set in stone, anger masking the hurt that lay beneath. "We're going to get him back," he said reassuringly.

"Wouldn't have t' git him back if y'all hadn't left him there in the first place," Daryl snapped back. He had a point.

Rick's voice drifted back from the passenger's seat, "Look, what's done is done. All we can do now is try and fix it." To the point. Daryl's response consisted of a grunt, and  _oh if looks could kill_. Dane swallowed. If Merle wasn't alright he didn't think he'd be able to stop Daryl.

"We walk from here," Glenn informed them as he brought the van to a halt on the train tracks outside the city. River practically leapt up and ran for the rear door. Damn the air outside felt good in her lungs. Relieved to be out of the van and have her freedom back she jogged down the train tracks a ways before turning to wait for the others.

"Forget something?" Dane asked as they caught up to her.

"Eh?"

Without another word Dane handed her her rifle she'd left in the back of the van in her rush to escape. She felt her neck, then her cheeks turn red. Gulping nervously she took it from him. Daryl shook his head in disapproval.

* * *

"So Liam," Jason reached over and scratched the dog behind the ears. "Looks like it's just you and me, eh bud?" Together they wandered down to the quarry. "Traps can wait," Jason told the dog, knowing full well he ought to go check the remainder of the traps River hadn't got to in the morning. "'Cause to tell you the truth, I'd rather be fishing." It  _might_  have something to do with a certain beautiful girl who'd said she'd be there.

When they got down to the water Jason was disappointed to find out Amy and Andrea weren't fishing. Instead they were sitting on the shore doing laundry. Absentmindedly he picked up a stick and chucked it into the water and watched the powerful dog take off after it. Liam was built for the water and he loved it. Would have loved it more if he were fetching ducks for his master, but a stick was the next best thing.

Shane had given up storming around camp in what Jason figured was essentially a temper tantrum. Now he was in the water splashing around with Carl. He'd thought he'd heard something about catching frogs.

"H-h-how's the water?" Jason asked them. He was sick of hearing from his brother how he needed to  _try harder_ and from River how he ought to _just suck it up_. It was time he made an effort to fit in around camp. He'd start somewhere small and figure out how to talk to them

Shane looked up surprised. Everyone had got to the point of just taking his silence and avoidance for granted. "Ain't bad," Shane told him. "Thinking of taking a swim?"

Squinting Jason looked up to the sky. It was damn hot down there in the south. A swim might not be such a bad idea. "Maybe... Don't know."

"A man of many words," Shane teased making Jason uncomfortable and causing him to look awkwardly down at his feet. "I'm just kidding, man," Shane amended not wanting to set the poor kid back. He was making progress.

As usual Jason was filled with the urge to run, but he stuck it out. He threw the stick again for Liam to buy himself time to think of an appropriate thing to say. Finally he forced himself to blurt out, "Catch any frogs?"

"No," Carl pouted.

_Didn't this kid ever get out of the bush? You'd think he'd never been around other people before_. "Not yet," Shane said aware of the disappointment on Carl's face. "But we're gonna. Isn't that right Carl? Just got to change up our tactics a bit." Carl smiled.

Unable to stand it Jason had to leave.  _Fishing could wait._  Somehow he missed the part about ending a conversation and rudely just walked off, but it had been a step in the right direction for him. On his way out he passed Lori.

"Hello JJ," she said as she passed. Her posture was stiff.

Jason managed to choke out a, "Hi," in response. He wondered if he'd done something to offend her. She seemed mad.

Jason hadn't gotten far when he heard a commotion back down near the water. As he turned to look he saw the women in some sort of scuffle with Ed. "Shit," he murmured under his breath. Without thinking he ran towards the altercation same as he had countless times for River. That instinctive part of him just took over.

"Hey asshole," Jason hollered as he worked to close the distance between them. That prick better not lay a hand on Amy. Better not lay a hand on any of them. Too late. Ed hit Carol. Everyone was screaming.

Jason didn't hesitate as he reached them. He shoved his way between Ed and the others. "L-l-leave them alone," Jason warned. It was hard to take him seriously.

"What are ya g-g-gonna d-d-do about it?" Ed mocked. The man had a lot of size and weight on the nineteen year-old.

Setting his jaw defiantly Jason widened his stance for balance and balled his hands into fists. "I said l-leave them alone," he repeated.

Ed laughed, assuming his stutter and social phobia also made him a coward. "You need t' learn not t' stick your nose where it don' belong," he told him as his fist connected with the kid's face. Ed snorted as he saw the blood splatter.

Ed's eye's widened with surprise for the brief moment he saw Jason's fist flying back at him before it hit him square in the jaw.  _Didn't think the kid had it in him_. He'd expected him to back down, but Jason wasn't about to do that. The kid was about to land another punch when Shane hauled Ed backwards and threw him to the ground. The deputy had it under control.

With Ed out of the way Jason turned his eyes searching. "Amy?" he called, "are you okay?"

Amy nodded. She wasn't hurt, just scared. They were all scared. Carol was holding the side of her face where her husband had hit her.

Jason frowned. "Carol," he said tentatively, reaching out for her. "Let m-m-me t-take a look at that," he gently removed her hand and examined the woman's face. Normally that was Dane's role, but his big brother wasn't there. Jason's fingers were gentle as he tenderly checked for any obvious fractures. It looked like no major damage was done. "You're going to... To have a n-nasty bruise most likely," he said looking away uncomfortably.

Liam's barking brought Jason out of the bubble of focus he'd been operating in. The dog was down on the ground barking and growling. Liam might dislike it when people didn't get along as much as his master did. Shane had Ed on his back and was on top of him hitting him repeatedly.

"You ever lay a hand on your wife or child, or anyone else in this camp ever again," Shane warned, "I'll beat you dead, Ed. I'll beat you dead."

As Shane got up Carol ran to her beaten and bloody husband. Andrea, Amy, Jaqui, could only shake their heads in disapproval. Jason watched puzzled by the whole scene. He couldn't understand why Carol would go back to someone who treated her so badly.

* * *

Dane held the chain link back for River as she climbed through the hole in the fence.

"Merle first or guns?" Rick asked once everyone was through.

"Merle," Daryl growled unable to believe that asshole had the balls to even ask. "We ain't even havin' this conversation."

"We are," Rick snapped back then turned to Glenn and told him, "You know the geography, its your call."

"Look, if they want to go after the guns," Dane said speaking to Daryl and River. "Then let them. We'll go get your brother." Dane had already failed Merle once, he wasn't going to fail him again. River nodded in a display of solidarity.

Daryl narrowed his eyes wondering why these Canucks gave a damn about him or his brother anyhow. Ain't nobody else in camp gave him a second thought 'fore he got back and raised a shit storm. Hell they was all probably celebrating him being gone.

"Merle's closest," Glen informed them. "The guns would mean doubling back," he reasoned. Apparently it wasn't going to be an issue after all. They jogged towards the department store. The same one they'd barely escaped last time.

"Remember, you don't want to fire that rifle unless absolutely necessary," Dane reminded River who was glancing around uneasily. It was her first time in Atlanta. "The second you do, you bring all the Walkers to us."

Rick recalled his previous encounter in the city when Glenn had rescued him from the tank. "Dane's right. That's how I got myself and your people in trouble last time. I didn't think before I fired."

"Got it," River affirmed barely above a whisper. It was eerie in the city with only the dead milling about. Her hand was hovering over her hunting knife not keen on the idea of taking these flesh-eating beasts on in hand-to-hand combat. "Never did like cities," she complained. A slight smile crossed Dane's face and she couldn't help but grin back.

"Quit yer yappin'," Daryl grumbled. River rolled her eyes.

As they entered the department store Dane nodded to a Walker wandering about across the room. Daryl stalked in being that he had the only silent ranged weapon of the bunch. "Damn, you are one ugly skank," he noted as he shot the Walker between the eyes.

"A shame we didn't bring the bows when we came down to Georgia," River said observing Daryl's easy, quiet dispatch of the Walker. Her .308 hung uselessly from her shoulder. Of course, she wasn't as experienced with a bow. The only reason any of them had one was to take advantage of the head start to deer season. They got a couple of extra weeks in the early fall during the bow only season, knowing that they'd be trapping later.

"Well, if anyone had mentioned that the world was going to be ending and we'd be fighting off the living dead instead of hunting feral hogs maybe we would have," Dane replied. "How were we to know," he shrugged dramatically and laughed.

"Ain't gonna matter whatcha bring if ya ain't any better wit' it than ya are wit' tha' rifle," Daryl jabbed.

River stopped dead in her tracks.  _That asshole just wasn't going to let up was he?_  Placing her hands on her hips she informed him, "I'll have you know I'm a very good shot."

"Right," Daryl snorted.

"Not my fault you never give me the chance," River added defensively.

"Tell ya wha'," Daryl told her. "Next time I see ya 'bout t' be Walker bait I'll jus' sit back an' watch. What d'ya say?"

"Fine," River agreed. Daryl raised an eyebrow. "I don't need you to protect me," she insisted.

"Guys...," Glenn cut in. "Do you think maybe we can have this conversation another time and you know," he was talking nervously, "hurry up and get out of here."

T-Dog let them know "That's the staircase right over there," as he pointed. "I chained the door shut at the top. Nothing could have got through."

"Best hope yer right," Daryl warned.

Standing at the bottom of the staircase, River gulped. Merle had better be okay up there. Dane put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Come on, let's go get him," he prompted her. The two of them ran up the staircase after the others. They'd made quick work of the padlock with Dale's bolt cutters.

"Merle!" Daryl hollered as he burst through the door onto the rooftop. "Merle!" There was no answer back. Only one Dixon was on that roof.

Still standing in the doorway River asked, "Are you sure this is where you left him?"

"Oh, I'm sure," T-Dog responded, his eyes glued to something.

"No! No!" Daryl was turning around aimlessly, his face full of agony.

River moved so she could see and immediately wished she hadn't. This was definitely where they'd left him. The handcuffs were still hanging from the piece of pipe dripping blood. Below them...

"Oh God," River brought her hand up to her mouth. Overcome by nausea she turned away from the grisly sight, but she couldn't get it out of her head. She doubled over and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the rooftop.

"I'm sorry," Dane whispered. He'd failed him again. All that was left was a hand, sawed off at the wrist when Merle had realized he'd been left for dead. "I'm so sorry." Everything... Everything was about to fall apart.


	9. Hostages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: This one followed the TV series more than I'd like. I'm going to focus more on the future on only bringing in scenes from the show when I feel it absolutely necessary. Bear with me.

 

The Atlanta Camp rescue party had made it back to the rooftop where Merle had been left to die. Busting through the door, they'd expected to find a very pissed off and probably very sun-burnt, redneck. They'd expected to hear the curses, name-calling, and threats that made Dixon oh so popular around camp. Instead they found a very empty and very quiet roof. The only sign of Merle, his severed hand and a trail of blood.

Daryl raised his crossbow to T-Dog's head. The man swallowed nervously but remained still as a statue. He stared down the length of that weapon into Daryl's hate filled eyes. But it wasn't just hate, it was hurt too. A whole hell of a lot of hurt.

The last time Dane had stood on this roof and tried to talk down a Dixon it had ended badly.  _Very badly_. It was the whole reason they were even in this mess; he blamed himself for what had happened with Merle. Now here he was staring helplessly at Merle's baby brother. No words would form on his lips. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Immediately Rick raised his handgun and placed it to Daryl's temple. "I won't hesitate," Rick told him with a stern look on his face. The tone of his voice spelled out that he was serious. "I don't care if every walker in the city hears it." There was no room left for doubt.

River started freaking out. Glenn quickly reached out and grabbed her, throwing his arms around her as she started to make a run for the men. He shook his head and whispered to her urging her not to get involved.

"Let me go!" River yelped.

"No." Glenn's voice was meek and uncertain, but he maintained his grip. When she was unable to tug free she sank to the ground. The Asian boy kept his arms around her, knowing full well if he let go she'd bolt, and knelt on the rooftop next to her. Unable to cope River was starting to shut down.

Blinking back tears Daryl lowered his weapon. T-Dog breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't the only one. Dane felt the weight lift off his chest too. In kind Rick lowered his gun and the three of them just stood there staring at each other for a moment.

"See," Glenn whispered to River as he stood. "It's okay."

"How'd you know he wouldn't shoot him," River asked shakily looking up from where she was sitting.

"I didn't," Glenn admitted sheepishly. "I just didn't want you running in there and getting in the line of fire." River glowered up at him.

* * *

This time when Jason headed down to the quarry Amy and Andrea were there. It was a gorgeous, sunny day and they drifted through the middle of the lake in Dale's canoe. The water was as smooth as glass and reflected the blue sky and rock walls of the quarry like a mirror.

"Hi Amy! Hi Andrea!" Jason called from the shore. There was more confidence in his voice than the pair of them had heard since he'd arrived in their camp. The girls looked over to where he was standing and he waved awkwardly to them.

A wide smile spread across Amy's face. "Hi JJ," she called back. Andrea waved from the canoe.

"C-catch anything?" Jason asked. The typical anxiety creeping back into his voice and causing him to stutter.

"A couple nice ones," Andrea informed him and held her hands up measuring the size of her fish.

Raising an eyebrow, Jason laughed. "Right," he held his own hands up a little closer together, "prob... Probably m-more like th-this."  _He was cute_ , Amy thought.

Inside the canoe Amy and Andrea were laughing. Amy held up her own fish proudly for Jason to see.

"Nice," Jason hollered back approvingly. Setting his gear down he set up his rod and cast out into the glassy water. There was a smile on his face. Aside from a little nagging ball of panic in his gut, he was mostly at peace with the girls being there. In fact, he was glad they were there. Maybe someday he'd have the nerves to ask Dale if he could borrow the canoe to take Amy out fishing himself.

* * *

Dane put out a hand to hold River back as they entered the kitchen. Daryl, Rick and him went ahead to ensure it was safe before motioning for the others follow.

"Oh God, what the hell is that smell?" River gagged as she followed them in. It infiltrated her nostrils, choking her and overwhelming her senses.

Rick was examining something on the stove. "What's that burnt stuff?" Glenn asked him innocently.

"Skin," Rick answered bluntly. That explained the horrendous smell.

Glenn looked like he was about to be ill. No doubt he wished he'd never asked. River leaned over retching, but there was nothing left in her stomach to come up. She'd emptied it all up on the rooftop.

"You're not usually so squeamish," Dane noted watching her reaction. River skinned hundreds of animals with them every year. Her stomach was usually solid as iron.

River looked up at him from where she was doubled over and gave him the finger. Her skin was pallid and sticky with sweat. After another round of dry-heaving she managed to tell him, "This is a little different."

Rick came up beside Dane, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think you should cut her some slack."

"I can't believe he did that," Glenn marveled, still staring at the burnt flesh. It was horrific, but it was hard to tear his eyes away from the sight.

"Told you he was tough," Daryl quietly reaffirmed. "Nobody can kill Merle but Merle." there was a certain awe and respect he had for his older brother.

Dane hoped he was right. But he had his doubts. Rick echoed the thoughts that were going through Dane's head. "Don't take that on faith," he cautioned Daryl. "He's lost a lot of blood." To make things worse they discovered that Merle had left the building. Somewhere out there he was wandering the streets with his self-done amputation and cauterized wound. It was tough odds.

"Do what you want," Daryl snarled. "I'm gonna go git him," he said turning to stalk off on his own in search of his brother.

Before he could realize what he was doing Rick reached out his hand and placed it on Daryl's chest. "Daryl wait," Rick said.

"Git yer hands off me," Daryl growled angrily. "You can't stop me."

River's stomach turned. She felt panicky. Dane immediately picked up on this. Expecting to get hit or find himself staring down the wrong end of Daryl's crossbow, Dane stepped his way. To his surprise neither happened. Daryl just sort of stopped and stood there for a moment.

"I don't blame you," Rick spoke up. "He's family I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel." This was the first piece of common ground he'd found with the redneck hunter. He was able to empathize with him, and that made him want to help him.

Daryl seemed to sense the change. He licked his lips and bit his tongue. He'd hear Rick out.

"He can't get far with that injury," Rick explained. "We can help you check a couple blocks around but only if we keep a level head," he offered. "Think you can manage that?"

Daryl swallowed every nasty word he'd had lined up for the cop. "I can do that," he managed to say. It came out very controlled.

River tried to put a comforting hand on Daryl's arm, the way Dane and Jason always did for her. The man was hurting, and he was trying so hard to hold it together. Confused by her touch Daryl pulled away. "Th' hell's yer problem?" He barked at her. She had to stop doing that.

* * *

Amy and Andrea returned to camp with a good bunch of fish. Catching sight of them Morales laughed happily. "Ladies, because of you my children will eat tonight," he commended them. "Thank you."

Amy broke out into a little happy dance as she drank from her water bottle. Jason smiled from where he was wandering on the fringe of camp. _That girl was just so damn cute_. Everything she did was adorable to him.

"Thank Dale," Andrea corrected Morales. "It's his canoe and gear."

"And don't forget JJ," Amy added gleefully. "Some of these fish were his. He was just too shy to bring them up."

Andrea nudged her sister. "He said not to say anything," she admonished.

Amy giggled and responded, "Credit where credit is due."

Carl stared in amazement at the bundle the girls were holding up. "Hey mom, look at all the fish!" the boy exclaimed.

Lori clapped her hands. "Yeah, whoa! Where'd you learn to do that?" She was clearly impressed.

"Our dad," Amy said smiling proudly.

It'd been Jason and Dane's dad that had taught them to fish too. And hunt and trap. Trapping and living off the land ran back generations in their family. All the way back to the original exploration of the west. He knew the pride Amy felt to share the skills of those before her.

Jason missed the old man. The hurt faded but never really went away. There was so much he owed to him, he realized now more than ever. Those skills and that knowledge that he'd passed on to his sons was the reason they were still alive in this post-apocalyptic world, and why he had no doubt that they would continue to thrive. Even before the world ended they had gained the confidence that comes with mastering a skill set and the joy of being able to make a living from doing something that they loved. He never got the chance to thank him for those gifts. Never got to say goodbye.

That morning Jason had been the one to find his lifeless body. And he'd never get the chance to ask him why.  _I'm afraid I cannot bear another day_ , the note had read.  _I am so sorry_.  _I love you both so much_.  _Dane, please take care of your brother. Someday I hope you will be able to understand and forgive me for what I've done_.

Dane had done his best, but for him the anger had never subsided and he never forgave their father. Jason, on the other hand, had withdrawn into a depression for a long time. Since then he'd learned to forgive, but he still wished he knew what had been so bad in his father's life that he would abandoned them.

The memories were overwhelming. Teary-eyed, Jason shook his head to force the images away. It was horrible, and he missed him, but  _life doesn't end just because bad shit happens_. That's what Dane had told him, and he'd learned it was true. You just keep on keeping on.

* * *

It was agreed among the rescue party that they'd get the bag of guns first and then at least they'd all be armed as they searched for Daryl's brother. But, Rick didn't like Glenn's plan. Neither did Daryl. "Even I think it's a bad idea," the redneck told him, "an' I don' even like ya much."

"It's a good idea," Glenn protested. "If you'll just hear me out." He went on to explain his plan using a white board and various bits of trash as stand-ins for key items such as the tank and the bag of guns. They'd split up into three pairs. Glenn and Daryl. Rick and T-Dog. Dane and River. That way if Glenn got cut off for any reason he had two back up escape routes to chose from. It actually was a damn good plan.

"Hey kid," Daryl looked at him genuinely curious. "What'd ya do 'fore all this?"

"Delivered pizzas," Glenn answered. Then his eyebrows drew together, "Why?" Daryl didn't answer, he just looked at him with a new level of respect.

They followed Glenn's old route from the rooftops down the emergency ladders to the alley. There were too many Walkers milling around the front doors again. River and Dane made their way down first, followed by Glenn. River cocked her head to the side and watched as Daryl made his way down the ladder.

"Oh my God, River!" Glenn gasped, nudging her in the shoulder.

"What?" she mouthed back silently.

"You're totally checking him out!"

"Am not!" River objected. Glenn looked at her skeptically. He knew what he'd seen. "Oh fine!" River caved, "so what if I was?"

"Wha' if ya were what?" Daryl asked his feet now on the ground.

Glenn started giggling and River went red. "None of your damn business," she snapped, mortified.

Daryl raised a quizzical eyebrow then shrugged, "Whateve'."

"Did I miss something?" Rick asked as he made his way to the ground. It was too much for Glenn. He couldn't hold in the laughter and burst into a fresh round of uncontrollable giggles. River flicked him behind the ear.

"Ouch!" Glenn quickly stifled his laughs but his diaphragm was still convulsing.

River narrowed her eyes and leaned in close to the Asian boy's already reddened ear. "Just think what I'll do to you if you don't drop it," she warned.

Glenn smiled at her teasing. His smile quickly faded. "You don't think she'd actually hurt me?" he quietly asked Rick.

Rick rubbed his chin. "I wouldn't push it." Now Glenn looked absolutely horrified. Everyone was chuckling except him and Daryl.

"How's 'bout we cut the chit chat an' git them guns?" Daryl suggested.

Glenn quickly jumped on the idea. "Good plan."

"Come on Tom," Dane tugged her towards the alleyway they were to be covering. The two jogged contently alongside each other, rifles slung over their shoulders. Once they had reached their destination Dane cautiously poked his head out around the corner. It was safe. Or at least as safe as could be. "So...," he trailed off.

River looked up. "Eh?"

"What's going on with you and Dixon?" Apparently Glenn wasn't the only one who'd noticed.

"Nothing."

"Come on," Dane pushed.

River shrugged. "He's kinda cute."  _Actually, he was damn hot_. Actually, it was a lot more than just that.

Dane frowned. Somehow he was hoping he'd misread the signs. He had a bad feeling she was going to get her heart broken. As much time as she spent out in the bush pretending to be one of the guys, he knew she was still a girl at heart. River ran with her emotions whichever direction they might pull her.

River was crouched down leaning against the cool cement wall of an abandoned high rise. Shyly she smiled up at him, her big green eyes searching for some reaction to her confession. Hopeful and scared. At times like this, Dane could see too plainly her vulnerability. It didn't help that her dark brown hair done up in two braids hanging down behind each ear made her look so much younger than she was.

Dane's hazel eyes were studying her intently, eyebrows furrowed in thought. The frown on his face spelled disapproval. River rolled her eyes. It was that protective big brother routine again. They may not share the same blood, but Dane looked out for her all the same.

"You don't need to worry about me," River grumbled, practically reading his thoughts. She turned her head away and kicked a stone across the alleyway. It was silly of her to expect his blessing. It seemed no one would ever be good enough for her so far as Dane was concerned. "Why can't you just be happy I've found someone I'm interested in?"

A sigh escaped Dane's lips. "Don't be like that, Tom." He wanted her to be happy. He just didn't want to see her get hurt again. She didn't think things through. It was so like River to just jump into something, for better or worse.  _Of course he'd always worry about her_.

River and Dane both turned their heads at the same time, their little heart-to-heart cut short. "You hear that, Tom?" he asked. Nodding she jumped to her feet. Without a second thought they ran towards the noise. Dane rounded the corner first. T-Dog had some kid pinned up against the wall.

"I'm gonna kick yer nuts up into yer throat," Daryl shouted at the stranger. The only thing holding him back was Rick.

Desperately River scanned the area, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. "Where's Glenn?"

* * *

The sadness brought on by the memory of his father had been lingering over Jason. He'd decided to take to the bush and keep busy. With River's dog Liam at his side he made his way along checking their nine remaining traps. So far they'd all been empty. With only two left the possibility of bringing back dinner for the camp was looking slimmer and slimmer. Having to keep the traps out of reach of roaming Walkers was really limiting their set locations.

Liam poked his nose into Jason's hand as they walked and flipped it up. When Jason didn't respond he barked at him and then tried again.

"You're needy, you know that?" He asked the dog. Liam perked his ears and cocked his head to the side, waiting. "Relentless, just like your master." He caved and knelt down ruffling the dogs fur. Liam extended his tongue and gave him a big, sloppy kiss. "Yuck!" Jason exclaimed, wiping the slobber away with his arm and giving the dog one more scratch behind the ears before continuing on his way.

"Hey Liam," Jason whispered excitedly, "I think we've got something." the telltale stripes of a raccoon tail became visible. A wide smile spread across his face. Amy had seemed to enjoy the roasted raccoon that River had brought back for lunch. After how easy she'd been to read with the tea, he knew she wasn't just being polite. Now he could play provider. He could do something to deserve her.

As he approached the catch his smile faded. "No," he breathed. "No, no, no." what a waste.  _What a complete and utter waste_. "Oh Liam," he sighed, "there's no way that's still good." He knew. He just knew he should have come out and checked the traps earlier.  _But he'd rather be fishing_. That's what he'd said.

"Damn this heat," Jason grumbled. Liam stood clueless at his side while his human companion examined the raccoon. It was already starting to bloat, the process of decay well under way. That meat was no longer fit for human consumption.

Jason scolded himself. Up North in the winter it would have been fine for days. However, he was no amateur, and he knew he needed to compensate for the heat down in the south. Dejectedly he removed the carcass and reset the trap. He'd be kicking himself for this one all the way back to camp.

"We stayed because Dane and River wanted to help these people," Jason told the dog. He knew Liam couldn't understand, but it was nice to have someone to talk to that didn't cause his anxiety to skyrocket. "But what good are we really doing?" he questioned.

Jason rambled on to the dog trotting along beside him. Liam's tongue was lolling out of the side of his mouth. He could care less. All that mattered was that he was out for a hike with one of his three favorite people. Jason sighed. What had he really expected from the canine.

* * *

The young Hispanic boy was Miguel. There wasn't much more they'd been able to find out. "Those men you were with," Rick demanded, "We need to know where they went."

"I ain't telling you nothing," Miguel insisted defiantly.

First Merle, now Glenn. River paced nervously. She didn't like feeling out of control. Having all these other people to worry about was exhausting: physically, mentally and emotionally. It had always been her, Dane and Jason. For as long as she cared to remember it had been the three of them, and she didn't need to worry about those two. They knew how to take care of themselves.

That kid, Miguel, was sitting there so smugly. It made her furious. All she wanted to do was grab him and shake him until he told them where Glenn was. People were cruel, selfish creatures. No wonder she liked it in the sparsely populated North, far from civilization. No wonder she was content to live her life out in the bush with the two people she trusted most. Generally she gave people the benefit of the doubt. Generally she was helpful. Up there, though, she found most people she ran across were decent people. But here, with the end of the world upon them, she was starting to realize how very dangerous people could be.

From that point on the questioning went downhill. It wasn't long before it dissolved completely. Miguel was insulting Daryl's brother. In turn, Daryl was trying to kick his face in. Rick and Dane, as usual, were in between trying to keep the peace.

"Daryl! back off!" Rick warned. The redneck eased up and started rifling through Glenn's pack.

"Wanna see what happened to the las' guy tha' pissed me off?" Daryl threatened. After that everything happened sort of fast. Merle's severed hand landed in Miguel's lap. Daryl had wrapped it up and brought it with them from the rooftop. Next thing anyone knew the kid was backed into the wall, terrified, and Daryl's hands were wrapped around his neck. It took both Rick and Dane to pull the furious redneck off him.

Miguel was wreathing on the ground. This was no longer a game. The whole screw you attitude and defiance had melted away. It seemed he was in a much more cooperative mood. So when Rick knelt down and played the role of negotiator, a skill he'd no doubt picked up on the force, they got what they needed.

* * *

Jason returned to camp empty handed and feeling like a failure. His plan involved retreating to his tent where he wouldn't have to face anyone. Where he wouldn't have to face how useless he was feeling.

Things didn't quite work out that way. Upon entering camp Jason turned to Liam and whispered "What on earth is going on?"

Jim was sitting on the ground tied to a tree and Shane had just finished pouring a cup of water over his head. Try as he might, Jason couldn't come up with one logical explanation. That meant that he was going to have to go over there and ask, forfeiting his chance to sneak away to the tent.

Jason stood there like a statue, trying to work up the courage to go over and demand to know what was going on. Every time he thought he was ready and went to take a step he chickened out. There were too many of them there. He just couldn't do it. That tent was sounding better and better. He didn't  _really_ need to know what was going on. Someone would fill Dane or River in when they got back and he could just find out from them.

* * *

"Let's go!" Daryl hollered impatiently trying to hurry the rest of them along. Him and River were the first two back to the cube van and she already had the back opened. "Those douchebags," Daryl snarled. "They best be hoping they don' touch a hair on..." he trailed off, realizing it was sounding too much like he cared what happened to the kid.  _Well, he didn't_ , he told himself.

Miguel stumbled as Rick shoved him along in front of them. Dane was right there beside him, hauling the Hispanic boy up by the elbow so they could keep moving.

"I'm telling you, you can't go that way. Man, the road's blocked." Miguel was frantically trying to explain to Rick as the deputy pushed him along.

T-Dog snorted. "Well man, it ain't like we can just follow your friends. You see the mess of Walkers they left in the street?"

It was a sea of unhappy faces when the rest of them caught up to River and Daryl at the van. "What's going on?" River asked them, standing on the bumper and hanging out from the back of the van.

"Our little friend here says the roads are blocked," Rick informed them.

At this Daryl scoffed. "An' how would he know tha'?"

"'Cause we're the ones that barricaded them, puto," Miguel spat back.

"Isn't that just lovely," Dane griped.

River looked around. "So what's the plan then?"

"Guess we walk," Daryl said hopping out of the van and slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. So they walked.

 


	10. The Long Walk

 

The rescue party for Merle had become the rescue party for Glenn. Somewhere out there Merle was alive, surviving the best way he knew how: relying on no one but himself. Now his little brother and the band of Atlanta Camp survivors were working their way to the Vato's compound to retrieve Glenn.

Twenty yards ahead of the rest of the group River was skipping along. She was infinitely glad to be walking and not trapped inside the oven otherwise known as the cube van. Daryl found his eyes wandering to her ass as she bounced around in front of them. Since the three Canucks hadn't really felt the same food scarcity as the others yet, she still had all her womanly curves. They were a distraction Daryl didn't need, yet his eyes lingered a moment longer.

"Don' she ever settle down?" Daryl grumbled miserably.

Letting out a little laugh as he shrugged Dane answered, "Not really."

"That girl needs to learn how to chill," T-Dog commented. "I dunno where she gets all the energy, man. But holy shit."

"That's Tom for you," Dane said absent-mindedly.

"Come on guys," River called back impatiently over her shoulder.

T-Dog shook his head. "Man, considering Glenn's been kidnapped and all, you'd think she wouldn't be so... upbeat."

Dane looked at the man walking to his side. "I doubt it's occurred to her that we might not get him back," he explained. River's optimism could either be one of her greatest qualities, or one of her most tiresome quirks, depending on the mood Dane was in.

"She should probably start to accept that as a possibility," Rick said thoughtfully. "The world has changed, that sort of attitude is going to get her in trouble and get her hurt." Dane knew that all too well.

Up ahead River had hopped onto a bench that lined the sidewalk. Carefully she was balancing across the back of it. Gingerly she placed one foot in front of the other, her arms stretched out to the sides.

"Don' fall," Daryl snorted as they caught up with her.

River shot him a sharp look as she hopped back down to the cement. "I wouldn't put it past you to push me just so you could swoop in and play savior again," she said recalling the previous incidents with the Walkers in the woods.

Daryl looked indifferent. "Told ya, yer on yer own."

"You're just saying that," River winked slyly at him.

"Wanna put tha' theory to the test?" Daryl stared her down. "Go on then. Go git a Walker after yerself an' see if I ain't gonna just sit 'ere an' watch the action." There was a challenge in his eyes. River was game. Turning she scanned the area for any lurking undead corpses.

"Look you two," Rick snapped. "We don't have time for this." River huffed and Daryl smirked at her before continuing forward. They had a ways to go.

* * *

It was hot inside the tent in the middle of the day. The discomfort was nothing compared to what he felt whenever he was outside with the others from the Atlanta Camp. So Jason stretched out on top of their sleeping bags, Liam laying next to him. He ran his hand repetitively along the dog's side, smoothing out his wavy dead-grass colored fur. Liam soaked up the attention like a sponge.

Unfortunately, the dog wasn't taking the heat as well as Jason. His tongue hung out and he was panting. That double layer of fur was great up north, but cooking in the tent it was making him uncomfortable. Jason frowned. River would kick his ass if her dog got heat stroke. "C'mon then," he said, rolling over and crawling to the tent door. "Let's go get you something to drink."

Lori and Carol were sitting around a small card table. "Hello JJ," Lori said as he walked by. Carol was busy mending some clothes. She looked up and smiled, but said nothing. She hadn't said a word to him since the incident with Ed. He was sure she hated his guts. Nervously he gulped.

"Hi Lori, Carol," Jason managed. Still Carol said nothing, solidifying Jason's fears.

"You know," Lori offered, sensing the boys difficulty fitting in. "Shane went down to the quarry with Carl and Sophia to clean those fish. They might be able to use a hand." It would be an opportunity for him to bond with someone without too much pressure.

Jason nodded. His heart was pounding.  _Any second he'd start having trouble breathing_ , he thought, as he felt panic setting in. The last thing he wanted was to have a panic attack here in front of half of the camp.  _One. Two. Three_. He counted in his head.  _Breathe_.

"I'm sure the kids would love to see Liam," Lori added encouragingly.

Jason's instinct was to run back to the tent. If it weren't for Liam he would have, but the dog needed a drink and he was headed to the quarry with him anyhow.  _Suck it up, Princess_ , River's voice echoed in his head. "Okay," he said grimacing. He would do it. He would take Liam and go clean fish with Shane and the kids, even if it killed him.

* * *

There were Walkers roaming up ahead. River raised her rifle but Rick quickly reached out laying a hand on her arm. Obediently she lowered the firearm.

"Not within the city," Rick reminded her.

River sighed in frustration. "What was the use in bringing them then?"

"They're to be used in case of an emergency only," Rick replied sternly.

Not being able to use the firearms made things much more complicated. Much more dangerous. River's face scrunched in concentration and she chewed on her lip. There were a dozen of the disease-ridden flesh-eaters milling about in the middle of the street.

The same concerns about noise didn't apply to Daryl, so he raised his crossbow and took the first Walker down. It crumpled to the ground without alerting the others. Eleven to go, but only five bolts remaining.

There was no way River was about to let Daryl claim all the glory. Rick and T-Dog watched confused as she ejected the magazine from her rifle and ejected the cartridge from the chamber and placed them in her pocket. Automatically she checked the chamber and examined the bore to confirm her rifle was indeed empty.

Once satisfied that it was safe River swung the rifle around, gripping it tightly around the barrel and started purposefully towards the throng of Walkers. Maybe she couldn't fire a round, but that didn't mean it had to be completely useless.

"Jesus man!" T-Dog exclaimed in a hushed whisper once he'd realized what she was doing. "That woman crazy?"

Single-mindedly Daryl cocked his crossbow and loaded another bolt. Fluidly he aimed and fired. Two down, ten to go. This time however it got the others' attention. Slowly they shuffled around to the direction the rescue party was in. They mustn't have picked up on their scent just yet, as they weren't in feeding frenzy mode. It wouldn't be long, though.

"Shit," Daryl muttered catching sight of River running in towards one of the flesh-eating bastards. "Git yer ass back 'ere," he rasped. Either she didn't hear him, or she chose to ignore him. Wouldn't surprise him either way.

When River swung her rifle it struck a female Walker in a tattered summer dress in the side of the head. The rotting corpse turned towards its assailant. Disgusted, River noticed that both eyeballs were missing, likely pecked out by carrion birds. Letting out a low groan it reached out, bony fingers grasping blindly for River's warm, still-living flesh.

Rick and T-Dog looked at each other. So much for stealth. Just over two Walkers to every person; they ought to be able to manage it alright. Shrugging, Rick picked up a splintered two-by-four from the street. He held it in one hand, keeping the other one free for their hostage.

"Try and run," Rick warned Miguel, "and I'll use this on you instead of the Walkers."

"Git out o' the way," Daryl willed River, who was standing in his line of sight. He was looking for a clear shot at the Walker that was after her.

"Come on then," River said, slamming her rifle into the side of the Walker's head for a second time. It stumbled with the force of the blow and River drew her hunting knife, ready to plunge it into the thing's skull and put it out of its sorry state of existence.

As if on cue, it dropped. Not surprisingly one of Daryl's bolts was sticking out of its head. Three down, nine to go. "As if!" River said exasperated. Reaching down she pulled the bolt free with a sickening slurp. Storming back over to Daryl who was getting his crossbow ready she called, "Hey Dixon!" The young woman smiled triumphantly. "Thought you were going to let me be Walker bait?"

"Considered it," Daryl lied.

River smiled at him. "Doubt it," she retorted, her big green eyes sparkling. She was radiant. Daryl looked away uncomfortably.

Placing his foot in the stirup, Daryl pulled back on the string. Her eyes drifted to his cut off sleeves and the rippling muscles of his arms. They glistening with sweat as he exerted the hundred and fifty pounds of force it required to manually cock the crossbow. Daryl straightened himself out and River found herself staring sheepishly at his solid chest.

River's focus shifted back to the Walkers on the street. "Dane!" she hollered, looking up to see a massive Walker with a crooked foot coming up behind him. Dane turned too late, the thing reached out grabbing hold of him. She was too far away and her rifle was unloaded.

"Daryl please," River cried out, her voice quivering. Not that she needed to ask, he already had the Walker in his sights. Relief swept over her when she saw it's body fall limp to the street. Dane smiled weakly back at them, clearly shaken by the near death encounter.

All games aside, River scanned the area. T-Dog had a Walker on the ground. It was already dead but he continued beating it's skull to a pulp with a tire iron. Rick was sneaking up behind an unsuspecting Walker with only one arm. The deputy had his splintered two-by-four raised and ready.

River rushed in to a lone Walker. As she got near it turned and stumbled towards her. Gracefully she danced around it. The thing was too slow. It just grasped at empty air. Once she had an opening she darted in, plunging her knife through the base of its skull into the brainstem. It collapsed.

Confidence filled River with the exhilaration she felt for her very first Walker kill. Harnessing that energy she moved quickly on and dispatched a second Walker with ease. Next to her she saw another one fall victim to one of Daryl's expertly placed shots. Counting the two that Rick and T-Dog had taken down that made eight. That should leave four unless Dane had managed to take one out, shaken as he was.

River stopped moving and scanned the area. She worked quickly and methodically breaking the area into sections, the way she did when she was glassing out hunting. T-Dog was still beating the same Walker. Its head was no longer recognizable; there was just a pile of mushy grey matter and skull fragments.

"I think it's dead," Dane called over to T-Dog. River was comforted to hear his voice. It let her know he was okay before her eyes settled on him. He was with Rick across the street. Rick had passed Miguel over to Dane. With hostage in tow, Dane caught a Walker's attention while Rick was sneaking up behind it. They were working well as a team.

Three Walkers were still unaccounted for. River continued to scan. Two Walkers were in front of Daryl, about ten yards. He dropped one, and bent down to re-cock his crossbow. It was going to be close. She ran towards him just in case, although it looked like he'd have it ready in time. Then she saw the last Walker. It was coming up behind him.

"Daryl!" She hollered as he dropped the second Walker that had been in front of him. He spun in time to see the Walker but his crossbow wasn't ready. It was the one downside to the weapon; they were slow to reload. He reached for his knife, but River already had hers drawn. Her only concern was for Daryl as she lunged at the Walker, tackling it to the ground. It gnashed its teeth at her as she raised her knife. "I don't think so," she informed the Walker as she plunged the knife down into its face.

That made twelve. The five of them looked around to make sure that the area was clear. Everything was still. They breathed a collective sigh of relief.

The sense of well-being was shattered. "Shit!" T-Dog exclaimed. They all turned to him. "Guys, I think Dane's been bit," he said pointing to where Dane was leaning on a lamppost away from them. His shirt was torn near the shoulder where the massive Walker with the crooked foot had had a hold of him.

* * *

Jason took one hesitant step after another towards Shane and the kids. They were sitting with the bucket of fish near the edge of the quarry.

"Eww," Sophia squealed as Shane showed her and Carl how to slice the fish's belly open and pull out the innards. "That's gross!"

"You're such a girly-girl," Carl teased.

"Am not!"

"Are too!" They went back and forth. Shane chuckled to himself.

Noticing the dog but not the person as Jason approached Carl leapt up and exclaimed, "Liam!"

Sophia's eyes lit up as she patted her knees and called the dog, "Here boy!" The dog ran to her, slurping a big wet kiss up the side of her face as she threw her arms around his thick neck. His tail was wagging madly as the two children poured affection over him.

Shane was the only one who seemed to be aware that Jason was there. The kids were so focused on the animal. "Hey there JJ," he said, nodding his head towards the nineteen year-old.

Swallowing nervously Jason returned the greeting, "Hi Shane. I was... I was j-just bringing Liam down so he... so he could get a drink and g-g-go for a swim," He stuttered as he tried to get the sentence out. "You know to... to cool off. He was overheating up in th-the t-tent," Jason explained, as if he needed to justify being down at the quarry.

Shane nodded. Watching the kids with the dog he commented, "Looks like I may have lost my helpers."

Jason winced. That was the other reason he'd come down to the quarry. "Lori said...," he paused uncertainly. "She said you m-might be able to use a hand."

"Sure could," Shane said picking a fish out of the bucket and tossing it to Jason. The two sat working in silence, and in time the tight feeling in Jason's chest subsided. He started to relax and enjoy himself.

* * *

"I'm not bit," Dane tried to assure the rest of the rescue party as River ran towards him. She was trembling when she reached him. "It's ok Tom, I'm not bit," he repeated softly for her benefit.

River's fingers trembled as she fumbled with his torn shirt. She hadn't said a word to him, but Dane could see in her eyes she was terrified of losing him. There were no bite marks. No claw marks. She collapsed in his arms, sobbing in relief.

"I told you," Dane whispered in her ear.

Pulling away from him River slapped him in the chest several times, shoving him backwards. "Don't you ever scare me like that again," she wailed between tears.

"I hope you understand," Rick said awkwardly, "if we need you to show the rest of us you're not bit." It wasn't an easy thing to ask of someone, especially one of the people you owed your own life to.

"Not at all," Dane said, pulling his shirt off so that they could all see he was bite and scratch free. He had a slimmer frame than Daryl, but his muscles were toned and well-defined.

T-Dog looked uncomfortably at Dane. "I'm sorry man," he apologized. "I saw your shirt was torn, and I just thought..."

"You thought wrong," Dane replied as he put his shirt back on. "But it doesn't matter. Let's keep moving and go get Glenn."

As they worked their way through the streets of Atlanta a tiny grin crept onto River's face. She'd sidled her way up next to Daryl. Every step she took the grin spread wider until her cheeks started to ache. Unable to stand it any longer she hip checked the man stalking along silently beside her.

"I told you I didn't need you to save me," River snickered. "In fact," she could barely contain herself, "I think I saved your hick ass."

"Whateve'," Daryl muttered.

"You know," River carried on. "I think that's twice now I've saved your ass."

Daryl turned to the woman keeping pace with him, "How d'ya figure?"

"Out on the highway," River reminded him. When they'd first met the Dixons had been stranded on the highway without fuel.

"Don' count."

River's jaw dropped. "Does so!"

"Nope." It was easy to get her going.

"Oh yes it does," River insisted.

"Go on then, keep tellin' yerself tha'," Daryl had to turn to hide the smirk that was forming on his face.

"Damn hick," River grumbled.

Daryl snorted. "I dunno why y'all keep callin' me a hick," he commented. "Ya take a look at yerselves lately?" It was true. River and the Jackson brothers were essentially the Dixons' northern counterparts, minus of course, the racism and bad manners. Although they had to wonder how many of Merle's beliefs Daryl really shared. They could already see a difference in him without his big brother around.

"Backwoods bastard."

"How's tha' any different?"

"Ass," River muttered.

"Yeah," Daryl said playing with her. "Ya sure as hell are a pain in th' ass."

"Hey!"

"Wha'?" Daryl asked, shrugging innocently.

River exhaled exasperated and forged ahead. Daryl lowered his head and smiled to himself. Clearing his throat, he wiped the smile from his face and continued to scan the street for threats. He didn't need that girl in his life. Didn't want her in his life. And even if he did, it's not like she'd ever want him in hers.

* * *

With a fresh bucket of water to leave outside the tent for Liam, Jason made his way back up to the camp.

"I see water, but no dog," Lori commented as he came into view.

Looking up Jason gulped. "He's still with th-the kids."

Lori nodded approvingly. Liam's arrival in camp had been a blessing for the children. They were so much happier whenever he was around. Watching them interact with the dog you'd never know that the world had ended and almost everyone they ever knew was dead.

"So, you guys get all the fish cleaned?" She asked trying to keep Jason engaged.

"Yeah."

Getting that boy to talk was like pulling teeth. But, at least he was talking to them now. When he'd first arrived all he'd done was hide out in their tent, coming out only when he was sure he would be able to avoid everyone.

"Amy likes you, you know," Lori told him. Immediately Jason's face went beat red and he looked uncomfortably at the ground. "Come on JJ, it's no secret around camp that you're interested in her. And it's no secret that she's interested in you either. You should go talk to her. I think she's in Dale's RV."

Still looking at the ground Jason shook his head.

"Why not?" Lori prodded.

"Can't," he muttered.

Lori smiled sympathetically at the boy. "JJ, in case you hadn't noticed, the world ended. Who knows how long any of us have. Go talk to her, go be happy," She said encouragingly. "You've got to live and hang on to these little things whenever you can."

* * *

"How much further," Rick demanded of their hostage as the rescue party trudged along.

Miguel glared unhappily at the deputy. "Man, we're here," he informed them. "Door's just inside there," he said, gesturing with his head. This was it then. Time to go get Glenn.


	11. Fools and Firewood

 

The rescue party had left the department store in search of Glenn. With their hostage, Miguel, in tow they navigated their way through the dangerous streets of Atlanta. The trip was not without incident or scares, but they managed to arrive outside the Vato's compound unscathed. It was game time.

Whatever this place had been before, it was a base now. Whoever these people were they had fortified the area well. There was only one way in and they would see them coming long before they ever reached the doors. Miguel was their one and only card to play. They'd better hope these people valued his life. Considering that they'd left him back in Atlanta, that was a big gamble to be taking.

"Let me come with you," River pleaded with Rick, who was crouched on the ground loading his shotgun.

Rick shook his head. "We talked about this already," he reminded her. "You are going to keep watch from above with T-Dog."

"Maybe y'all should want someone up there tha' can actually shoot," Daryl suggested. He leaned back against the brick wall and smirked. Holding his crossbow in front of him, he looked all muscles and masculinity to River, but that didn't stop her from boiling over with anger.

"You know," River started, advancing on Daryl her nostrils flaring angrily as she spoke. "I am sick and tired of your little quips about my ability to shoot. I am a good shot, ask Dane or JJ. You've never seen me, so you can't talk." By this time River had him cornered against the wall.

River was standing inches away from Daryl, well inside the loner's comfort zone. Pushing himself off the brick wall Daryl stood his full height. Now his crossbow was really the only thing between them. River was forced to back up a couple of paces.

"And that is why you're not coming," Dane informed her.

"Eh?" River slowly moved her eyes up from Daryl's chest. When she reached his eyes he turned away and moved down the wall a good five feet.

"Earth to River!" Dane said, exasperated.

River snapped her eyes away from Daryl and turned to the man who was talking to her. "What?"

"Unbelievable," Dane muttered under his breathe. "I said that's why you're not coming."

"Why's that?" River asked, completely oblivious.

Dane shook his head slowly. "Because," he told her, "you're too quick to anger and blow up." Apparently she was also too easily distracted when there was a certain redneck hunter around.

River was about to open her mouth and object when Rick added, "These negotiations can be delicate. We don't want to do anything that could compromise Glenn's safety." put that way it was harder for River to argue.

"Fine," River grumbled. Daryl realized he was glad that she wouldn't be with them. It was going to be dangerous and worrying about her would just be a distraction.

As they finished last minute preparations Daryl turned to Miguel and informed him, "One wrong move, you git an arrow in th' ass. Jus' so's ya know."

Miguel, who had been sitting on the ground, legs stretched out and looking dejected got some of his piss and vinegar back. Defiantly he retorted, "G gonna take the arrow outta my ass and shove it up yours. Just so you know."

It turned out G stood for Guillermo, and Guillermo happened to be the leader around the Vato's compound. "Okay then," Rick said as he pumped his shotgun. "Let's go see Guillermo."

Reluctantly River trudged alongside T-Dog and crouched down behind the wall where they'd be keeping watch. Down below, Rick, Dane and Daryl led their hostage towards the front doors. Their weapons were raised and ready.

Daryl and Dane fell back to cover as Rick stepped up to the door with Miguel. Dane was staring straight ahead. "If you ever hurt River," Dane warned Daryl, eyes still focused on the doors in front of them, "I'll kill you." It was so unexpected that Daryl was caught off guard. He didn't get a chance to respond before the doors opened and Guillermo stepped out. So he was left wondering what Dane had meant.

Down below negotiations weren't going so well. Guillermo wasn't going for the exchange of hostages. He wanted the bag of guns. "We should just shoot 'em," River suggested impatiently.

T-Dog looked at her, appalled. "Just chill. Let Rick handle this," he pleaded hoping she wouldn't do anything rash.

River was studying the scene down below. "How's your aim?" She asked the man crouched next to her. "We could take them out before they had any idea what was happening."

"No. Man, just trust Rick, okay?"

"Trust Rick?" River asked indignantly. "He handcuffed my friend to a rooftop."

"And he came back out here to try and save Merle's cracker ass," T-Dog reminded her. "Now he's here trying to save Glenn. He coulda stayed back at camp. Man, he prolly shoulda stayed at camp, but he didn't."

T-Dog did have a point. River mulled it over. Maybe she was being a little unfair on Rick. It's not like she didn't know what Merle could be like. Besides, even Dane had said he didn't know what could have been done differently. The guy deserved a second chance.

The rest of negotiations continued to go poorly.  _Come back with my bag of guns, or come back locked and loaded_. That had been the Vato's demand, put forth by Guillermo. It was time to regroup and come up with a plan.

* * *

_Seize the day. Live life to the fullest._   _All that bullshit._  Jason had been managing fine until Lori decided she wanted to have a little heart-to-heart with him about Amy. He'd been content moving at his own pace. Maybe it was the pace of a snail, but so what?  _Slow and steady wins the race, or something like that_.

Jason slumped by the fire. Liam had returned from playing fetch with the kids. He was panting from the vigorous routine of swimming out into the quarry as far as the children could throw and coming back with their sticks.

Carol was still sitting there mending clothes. Still she hadn't said a word to him. Jason was sure he caught her peering across at him from time to time. He wished she'd just have at him. Yell. Scream. Get it out of her system. At least then he'd know where he stood. This not knowing shit and still having to share camp was making him uneasy.

Now Dale was watching him too. He was sure of it. He'd caught the old man staring down at him from his perch up on the RV. It had to do with Amy. It must. He wasn't entirely sure where Dale fit into Amy and Andrea's lives, but he seemed to be like a father figure to them. Which, of course, meant he'd get all protective the second he thought Jason was getting close to his surrogate family.

If he'd been a braver man Jason would have gone and talked to Dale. Instead, he let his paranoia get the better of him until he was on the verge of a panic attack. "C'mon Liam," he called to the dog he was sitting for River. He had to get away from camp. He had to get away from people.

The door to the RV opened and Amy stepped out. "Hey JJ," she called out cheerfully. "Where you heading?"

"Umm...," Jason glanced around uncomfortably. "I was... I was just going to g-get some more f-f-firewood before it gets dark," he told her. It had seemed like a good idea to get away from everything for a bit until he calmed down.

Amy lit up. "Can I come?" she asked, full of youthful enthusiasm.

Jason felt the walls closing in on him. His head said  _no_ , but against his will his mouth formed the word, "Sure."

"Great!" Amy exclaimed happily. "Just let me grab my jacket. There's so many bugs and mosquitos out there," she complained. "I don't want to come back covered in bites," she said while she subconsciously scratched at her arm.

As Amy darted quickly back into the RV to grab her stuff Jason considered making an escape and disappearing. However, he knew if he did that he'd just have to face her later and try to explain. And that would be a million times worse. So he waited with the same dread that a prisoner on death row experiences.

* * *

"I can't believe those idiots," Rick lamented, shaking his head as they walked away. From the Vato's compound for the second time. Glenn was with them. Not a hair on his head had been harmed. "We were ready to go in there and kill every last one if them if need be."

When the rescue party had gone back  _locked and loaded_ , as Guillermo had said in his ultimatum, things had taken a turn for the bizarre. The Vato's compound had turned out to be a nursing home. And not an abandoned one at that. Those punks that had kidnapped Glenn, well, they had stuck around to care for the old folks. River was glad T-Dog had talked her out of shooting them.

Daryl was still griping about Rick giving them half of the guns. But, how could they not? Those people were doing a good thing. They were decent people. Lucky for them, the group of survivors from the Atlanta Camp were decent people too.  _Even Rick_ , River thought.  _Especially Rick_. He had changed her mind about him in the way he handled the situation.


	12. Holes

 

When the rescue party had gone to get Glenn back they had relegated the quick-tempered River to watch duty with T-Dog. It turned out to be a good thing too. Those Vatos punks had turned out to be a good bunch of guys taking care of the abandoned nursing home residents. After giving them some guns to help defend against raiders the group of Atlanta Camp survivors made their way back to the van.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl asked shaking his head, crossbow slung over his shoulder.

"We left it right there," Glenn insisted. "Who would take it?"

Rick dropped his head and spoke in a low tone. "Merle."

"He's gonna be takin' some vengeance back t' camp," Daryl warned. A world of trouble was about to be unleashed on the camp when he got back, if he wasn't already there.

* * *

They came from two different worlds. Amy, bright eyed and buoyant, longed for the bright lights and the hustle-bustle of the city. She missed texting and hanging out with her friends, gossiping about the latest celebrity news. Jason preferred the quiet life: surrounded by the wilderness and living off the land. He saw little use for the technology that she had relied on. If it hadn't been for the end of the world their paths would never have crossed.

"So, what was it like living up in Fort Nelson?" Amy asked curiously as she leaned down. Standing back up she had a delicate, white wildflower in her hand. She stuck it in her hair behind her ear and smiled sweetly at Jason, giving him time to sort out his words. She was so patient with him.

Jason shrugged. "Simple," he said truthfully. "Cold."

Amy scrunched up her face. "You didn't like, live in igloos, did you?"

Jason laughed. Surprisingly, it wasn't the first time in his life he'd been asked that. "I used to," he teased. "It's such a pain though when your house m-melts every summer." It was nice that he was starting to feel comfortable with her. It was nice to be able to talk to and joke with her the way he did with Dane and River. It was nice to be able to be himself.

Playfully Amy punched Jason in the shoulder. "You are such a dork," she snorted between laughs. A hand came up to her mouth embarrassed by the noise that had escaped her.

"I'm a dork?" Jason asked eyes wide, pointing at himself questioningly. "I'm not the one who thinks all Canadians live in igloos."

"Not all Canadians," Amy corrected trying to hold back a fit of giggles. "Just dorky trappers from Fort Nelson." Both of them collapsed into laughter. At the rate they we collecting firewood the camp would be awfully cold tonight. The stick that Liam was packing around hoping for someone to throw was all they had, but they didn't care. They were having fun and enjoying each other's company.

* * *

The highway seemed to stretch out forever. It was a long run out of Atlanta for the rescue party. Time was of the essence. Merle had the van and chances are he'd already made it back. They couldn't outrun the vehicle. But every second they wasted put the people they cared about at risk as the camp bore the brunt of Dixon's wrath.

The they heard the screams. "Was that...?" T-Dog trailed off, unable to finish the question.

"It was," Rick said solemnly as he took off in the direction of camp. Everyone else was straight on his heels.

When they'd reached the camp it wasn't Merle Dixon's wrath they had to worry about. It was a full-on Walker invasion. Each man and woman stepped up to the plate. Bullets were flying. Shovels were swinging. Bodies were dropping.

River and Dane stood side by side, their rifles raised. It allowed them to divide the area they needed to cover in half without needing to discuss or worry about what the other was doing. They were covering ground and dropping Walkers in the same style as they covered the skies and dropped waterfowl. Except that there were two instead of three. Jason was across the camp with his shotgun placing slugs into the Walkers' brains.

Daryl felt something whiz by his head. Alarmed he looked up and saw River pointing her rifle in his direction. "Ya wanna watch where yer shootin'?"

"I am," River retorted. "You may want to watch your back."

Daryl turned around and saw a Walker laying only a few feet away from him. With all the noise and commotion he hadn't heard it sneaking up behind him. A perfect little bullet hole lay square between its eyes. Maybe the girl wasn't a bad shot after all. Else she was just lucky, in which case so was he that it wasn't his head that hole was in.

Daryl turned back and nodded to her in thanks before taking down another Walker. Then, as the last Walker fell, so did the silence. It was over. Except, it was only the beginning, they realized as they all looked around and searched for their loved ones.

Rick looked around wildly for Lori and Carl. Upon spotting them he collapsed to his knees and took Carl into his arms. Carrying his son he made his way to his shell-shocked wife and they held each other tight. Relief swept over him. His family was safe. Morales too took his family in his arms, unharmed. Carol found Sophia. Dane found Jason, and the two brothers found River. None of them were bit or scratched.

Daryl had no one to take into his arms. He had no one searching to make sure he was alright, and no one to search for. Seeing the others made him painfully aware of this fact.  _Ain't no one gonna care about you, little brother_. Merle may not be there, but his voice was never absent from Daryl's head.  _No one 'cept me_. Merle was all Daryl had ever had. Without him he was completely and utterly alone.

"Don't need no one anyhow," Daryl muttered to himself. He was a Dixon, and Dixons took care of themselves. River glanced over, glad to see her favorite redneck was still in one piece. Not that she'd had any doubt. He didn't see the small smile she gave him.

"Where's Liam?" River asked Jason once she was certain both Jackson brothers were uninjured.

Jason spun around. "He was right here," he said. The dog was gone and he had no idea where he was now.

"Liam!" River hollered. "Liam!" The dog didn't come. Desperately she continued to call his name as she searched for him. When he still didn't show himself she became frantic, digging through the piles of Walker corpses looking for any sign.

"Tom," Dane said as softly as he could while still getting her attention. "Maybe he got scared and ran off..."

"I have to find him," River sobbed.

Dane grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. "We'll look for Liam in the morning," he offered. "It's too dark. We'll never find him like this."

"Let me go!" River wrenched free of his grip and continued her frantic search. "Liam! Liam!"

"Tom, you need to stop." River didn't hear him.

"Oh my God," Jason's eyes settled on Andrea kneeling on the ground next to a body. His heart sank. "Amy." It couldn't be. Merely hours ago they were laughing and joking while they packed firewood back to camp.

Andrea was cradling her younger sister's bloody body, crying her name over and over. Everyone else, holding their loved ones in their arms, turned sadly to the sight. It was to be Amy's birthday tomorrow. The first one that Andrea had actually been there for in much too long. Now she was dead.

"I remember my dream now," Jim said as he surveyed the scene. "I remember why I dug all those holes."


	13. On The Road Again

 

When they'd returned to camp they'd expected to find an enraged Merle Dixon exacting his revenge for being abandoned on the rooftop in Atlanta. Instead they found the camp under attack by Walkers. Liam was missing, and Ed and Amy were dead. In the darkness it was hard to know much more than that. The shell-shocked group of survivors would have to wait until the sun came up to sort out the mess.

River tossed and turned. The thought of her dog out there gnawed on by one of those filthy flesh-eaters made her sick to her stomach. There didn't seem to be any other reasonable possibilities. Dane kept saying that he could have run off scared, but he was just trying to placate River. If Liam had just run off she was sure he would have come back when she called.

"Look, I know you're worried about Liam," Dane mumbled sleepily, "but there's nothing we can do about it right now. Do you think maybe you can try and be still?" There wasn't much room in the tent at the best of times. There definitely wasn't room for her to be squirming about the way she was.

"Can you go fuck yourself, Dane?" River snapped back angrily, fire in her voice.  _How dare he_. He knew how much Liam meant to her.

"Don't be like that, Tom."

River glared through the darkness. "Go to hell."

Dane understood that she was hurting, but River really was being a bitch. "You know, you don't need to be here," he told her. "Why don't you go for a walk and come back when you've settled down some." They lived in close quarters on the trapline for months at a time. It wasn't uncommon for things to get tense and for one of them to need to take a time out. Usually it was River.

"Take your rifle," Jason reminded her. After what they'd just been through he didn't want her taking any chances. He was sure River could take care of herself. However, same as he didn't worry about her out in grizzly bear country, he still felt more comfortable for her to take a firearm. This was no different.

River scowled. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Just in case," Jason added wearily.

"You can both rot for all I care," River spat as she crawled towards the exit of the tent, roughly grabbing her rifle on the way out. She wasn't stupid, after all. Dane and Jason let it roll off their shoulders. They knew she didn't mean it.

The first thing River noticed was that Andrea was still kneeling beside Amy's corpse. Amy had meant everything to her older sister. The devastation she felt was all-consuming. There was nothing anyone could do to get Andrea to leave her side. Not for lack of trying. But when they'd seen how Andrea tuned them out or turned on them when they tried, eventually they'd given up and left her there to mourn.

"River," Shane called down from on top of the RV where he was keeping watch for the remainder of the night.

River squinted into the darkness. Unlike her, the man on top of the RV was not illuminated by the dim fire light. "Shane?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "What are you doing out?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"I don't think you're alone in that," Shane offered sympathetically.

Shane, Andrea and herself were the only ones up, but that didn't mean everyone was asleep. No, she'd be inclined to agree with Shane. No one was going to be getting much sleep tonight.

"I suppose not," River agreed. She paced around the fire until her eyelids started to droop.

* * *

Daryl lay awake in his tent.  _You're next, little brother_ , Merle's voice echoed in his head.  _They got rid of me and you're next. Ain't no one want yer pansy ass around_. It was true. After the Walker attack he'd been the only one standing around on his own. No one hugging him saying  _thank God you're alright_. No, everyone here hated him and would have been glad to see him dead.

There was a scratching at the outside of his tent. Must be a stray Walker that had wandered into camp behind all of the rest. Shane was supposed to be keeping watch from on top of the RV, but where Daryl's tent was on the edge of camp it would be easy for him to miss it.  _He ain't blind, Darlena, you think it don't cross his mind?_

Cautiously Daryl drew his knife from its sheath and slid silently towards the door of the tent.

"Daryl?" A voice called into the tent. The dead didn't talk.

It was that damned girl River. "What d'ya want?" Daryl rasped as he put away his knife.

River undid the zipper on the tent door and poked her head through the opening. "Can I come in?" she asked, her green eyes pleading.

"No."

River stepped into the tent. "Thanks."

"Th' hell?" Daryl's face contorted. "Did ya not hear me. Ya deaf or sumthin'?"

River stuck out her bottom lip and pouted. "Please."

"No," Daryl repeated. "Don'tcha got yer own tent t' sleep in?"

"I've been kicked out," River admitted.

"Yeah, well, cry me a river," Daryl sneered at her.

"Like I haven't heard that one before," River said dryly as she plopped her butt down on the end of Daryl's cot and laid her rifle on the floor.

The muscles in Daryl's face were tense as he watched her uncomfortably. His piercing blue eyes were glued to her like a hawk. "Whatcha doin' here?"

"I need a place to stay," River explained. As if that much hadn't been obvious.

That didn't answer why she'd come to him of all people. "Yeah, well go find someone tha' actually wants yer ass 'round." Daryl regretted his words immediately when he saw the hurt cross River's face. It's not that he didn't want her around.  _He just didn't want to want her around_.

"Everyone else is either all lovey-dovey with their families, or is mourning the dead," River complained.

_Don't be stupid, little brother. Whatcha thinkin'? 'Course a girl like that ain't ever gonna actually want t' be wit ya._ Merle's voice bounced around in his head.  _She just ain't got nowhere else t' go_.

"Ya tryin' t' tell me ya ain't mourning that mutt of yers?" Daryl had heard her hollering frantically and sobbing as she'd searched for Liam.

"Please, can I just stay here tonight?" River begged, teary-eyed and too exhausted to keep bickering with him.

Daryl was about to open his mouth and tell her  _no_  again, but she just looked so damn pathetic. "Fine," he grumbled unhappily. "Ya can take Merle's cot," he offered as he crawled back into his sleeping bag.

It wasn't entirely what River had had in mind. Somehow she'd thought the socially-awkward ass, otherwise known as Daryl Dixon, might take her in his strong arms and hold her. She was just hurting and seeking comfort. It was a bit of wishful thinking on her part and she knew it.

"Right," River mumbled as she flopped onto the other cot and stared up at the tent ceiling.

* * *

Jason climbed back into the tent after taking a leak. "Andrea's still out there," he informed Dane.

Dane grunted sleepily. "Uhuh."

"I just don't know," Jason hesitated. "I feel like I should be there, or be saying something, or, I don't know."

"Then go be there," Dane said, adjusting the balled up jacket he was using as a pillow. With the damn heat in Georgia it sure wasn't good for anything else.

Jason hummed and hawed. "I don't know. It's her sister you know. I barely just met her. Maybe I should be giving her space?"

"Then give her space," Dane said rolling over onto his side, his back to his brother. After everything that had happened he was exhausted.

Jason sighed. "I'm not good with people, Dane, you are."

"I can't go out there for you," Dane said, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. "It doesn't work like that."

"That's not what I meant," Jason grumbled. He was having a hard time getting his point across.

The older brother turned over and studied him. "What did you mean then?"

"I'm asking you for advice," Jason quietly mumbled.

Dane nodded finally understanding. "It doesn't matter what you say to her," he explained. "She's grieving. She won't remember what you say anyways, but she will remember if you were there or not."

Jason took in what his brother was telling him. Quietly he turned and left the tent again. Dane wouldn't see him again that night.

"Andrea," Jason called as he uncertainly approached her. "If you n-n-need anything...," he trailed off. The woman gave no indication that she'd heard him. Like Dane had said, words didn't matter. As the night air cooled dew settled on him, Jason became chilled. Ignoring the discomfort he continued to sit there and wait with her.

* * *

It was sunrise and the damned girl was finally asleep, Daryl realized. Although she hadn't been asleep for long. There were still a puffy, red circles surrounding her eyes. Daryl had listened to River cry most of the night. He knew he should probably say something to her. Instead he'd pretended to be asleep, not knowing what to say or how to deal with her. That missing mutt really had her upset.

With the sun up it was time to go deal with the dead and take stock of just how bad the situation was. As quietly as he could Daryl made his way to exit the tent. The fabric rustled under his feet just enough to cause River to stir.

"Dane?" River called out groggily. Daryl grimaced at the name of the other man. Foolish as it was he liked the thought that River could be his. Of course, he'd be stupid to believe she wasn't sleeping with Dane. He'd seen how close they were. How she was always touching him.

River's arms stretched out above her head and her toes pointed down as she stretched all the muscles that had contracted during the night. Some of the stiffness subsided and she rolled over promptly falling off the cot. The floor came up and hit her with an unexpected thump.

River's eyes sprung open. Initially she was confused by her surroundings. As she came to she started to remember the events of the previous night and how she'd ended up where she was. There was an aching void inside her. It didn't hit her immediately, but then she remembered Liam was missing. Her soul collapsed in on itself.

Rubbing her eyes she sat up and leaned against the cot. "Trying to sneak out?" River asked Daryl who was frozen in place.

"Didn't wanna wake ya," Daryl said awkwardly. Having a woman in his tent was new to him.

"I need to get up anyways," River assured him. "I'm surprised I slept at all." Daryl merely grunted.

Using the cot to steady herself River got to her feet and scooped up her rifle from the floor. "I'm going to go look for Liam." She didn't expect to find him, at least not alive. But, until she found his dead body, she couldn't give up hope.

Outside was a grisly sight. The dead, both Walkers and their own, littered the ground. Andrea still hung over Amy's dead body. Gently she stroked her sister's golden blonde hair, brushing it out of her face and behind her ears. It was a tender, loving touch. Nearby sat Jason, quietly waiting with her.

River figured chances were that she would find Liam's body near camp.  _Walker food._  So she joined the others dealing with the mess that was left searching for any furry remains. Bodies were moved, separated into piles of Walkers and their own dead. Glenn had had a fit when Daryl and Morales had tried to drag one of their own to the burn pile.

"We don't burn our own. We bury them," Glenn had told them, trying to hang onto something that made sense.

After all of the dead had been dealt with there was still no sign of Liam. No way to know if he was alive or dead. River felt a sudden pang of sympathy for their resident redneck. Liam was her pet, her companion. Merle was Daryl's brother, his family. What Daryl must have gone through, still be going through, would be a thousand times worse than her own suffering.

Meanwhile, a huge division was caused over Amy as Shane, Lori and Rick discussed what to do with her. There was no secret that she was going to turn.  _A time-bomb_ , they'd called her.

Some wanted to preemptively take care of the situation by destroying the brain. However, Andrea wouldn't let anyone near her sister's corpse. When Rick approached her Andrea pulled her gun on him, much as she had that first day in the department store.

"I know where the safety is now," Andrea warned the deputy. Rick was forced to back off.

"She's putting all of us at risk," Shane objected. "That thing is going to come back and try to kill us," he warned.

"That thing?" Jason repeated disgustedly. "That's Amy. That's her s-s-sister. Have some...have some respect." As soon as he said it he withdrew in on himself. His shoulders hunched and he chewed nervously at his finger nails.

Daryl snorted. "Not anymore."

"As far as she's concerned it is," Dale cut in. "That was a human being. We all knew her, for Christ's sake." Amy had been like family to the old man too.

In the end it was Andrea who did what needed to be done. Amy's eyes flickered open and she rose, trying to sink her teeth into Andrea's living flesh. Andrea put her handgun to her baby sister's head. Whispering, "I'm sorry for never being there," she pulled the trigger.

Of course, it didn't end there. Not a chance. Jacqui discovered that Jim was bit. That unleashed a whole 'nother shit storm of drama. Daryl lunged at him with the pickaxe, figuring he was as good as a Walker already. Maintaining some sense of humanity the group chose to protect Jim and bring him with them. This caused more than a little upset for some.

"Whateve'," Daryl grumbled, "have it yer way." He stalked off angrily at the groups refusal to do what needed to be done. The tree-huggers were more interested in protecting Andrea's feelings and prolonging Jim's suffering putting all of them at risk, than they were in surviving. Well, let 'em be.

"Hey Dixon!" River called, jogging to catch up with the man.

Daryl turned and squinted at the girl. "What d'ya want."

"It looks like we're all done around here," River told him. The bodies had all been moved, buried or burned.

"Yeah, and?"

"I could use some help," River told him.

"Tell someone tha' gives a damn," Daryl growled growing impatient. He wished the girl would just get to the point.

"Liam's still missing...," River trailed off, biting down on one of her braids anxiously.

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "So?" Daryl asked insensitively. "I don' see how yer mutt's my problem."

"You don't have to be such an ass," River bluntly informed him. Immediately Daryl regretted his words. Placing her hands on her hips she begged, "Daryl, please. You're a good tracker. Can you help me look for him?"

Daryl stood there and stared at her.  _See little brother, they only want anything t' do wit ya when they need sumthin' from ya_.

River waited, but eventually gave up. "Never mind. I'll go look for him myself," she said storming off.

Daryl gritted his teeth. "River, wait!"

River turned and looked at him, her green eyes full of expectant hope. "What?"

"I'll help ya try and fin' yer mutt," Daryl offered.  _Fool! She don' care about you. That' girl, she's just gonna use ya, then she's gonna throw ya away_. "Not 'cause I give a shit, 'cause I don't," he said defensively. "Just so's I don' have t' listen t' ya go on 'bout it."

River smiled and threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Daryl."

Daryl tensed instantly. His whole body went rigid and he tried to pull away from the woman whose arms were around him.

"Ya don' have t' git all mushy 'bout it," Daryl said. His voice was hard and stilted.

Sensing his discomfort River backed off. Her eyebrows knitted together and she chewed on her bottom lip. The way Daryl responded to her seemed strange. It also wasn't the first time she'd got that off vibe from him. Although it troubled her, she couldn't fit the pieces together so she brushed it off.  _He's just not a people person_ , she told herself. Part of her knew, even then, that wasn't the entire truth.

* * *

Once all of the business around camp was dealt with it was time to discuss where to go from there. Though there had been some division, the overwhelming sentiment was to head to the CDC. Morales and his family was choosing not to go, but the rest of the group was sticking together.

"We going?" Jason asked his brother.

Dane looked at him slightly amused. "I'm surprised. I thought you'd want to head to the border now. You couldn't shut up about it before we came here," he reminded him.

Jason shrugged. Dane understood. These people, not just Amy, but all of them, we're starting to mean something to his younger brother. He was starting to connect with them and he wasn't ready to leave.

"Sure, we'll go with them," Dane told him.

Glenn shielded his eyes from the sun with one hand as he approached the Jackson brothers. "Hey guys?"

"What's up Glenn?" Dane asked.

"We're just packing up camp. You coming with us?"

Dane looked to his younger brother, giving him one last chance to change his mind. Jason nodded.

"Yeah. We'll stick around for now," Dane told him.

"Great!" Glenn exclaimed excitedly. "Shane wants us to pack as much water as we can with us in addition to all our gear. Can we put some stuff in your jeep?"

"Sure," Dane agreed. "JJ can give you a hand with that," he volunteered his younger brother. Jason opened his mouth to protest, but Dane didn't give him a chance to voice his objection. "I need to go pull our traps before we move out," Dane said already on his way.

* * *

When River returned Dane and Jason were both back and in the jeep. Dane stepped out of the vehicle to greet her. "Did you find any sign of Liam?" he asked. River shook her head, too dejected to speak. Liam's tracks were all over the camp, but neither her nor Daryl had found anything fresh enough to suggest he'd made it out when the Walkers attacked.

"I'm sorry," Dane said. He meant it. River nodded trying to hold back the tears. Without another word he took her in his arms. The woman buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed. "It's going to be okay," he assured her. Daryl watched from across the camp, lowering his head and walking off in the opposite direction.

After a solid five minutes River's sobbing started to subside. As she quieted down Dane told her, "It's not safe here anymore. We're going to need to move on."

"But Liam!" River objected. Dane shook his head. "No," she pleaded, knowing he was right but not wanting to hear what he had to say.

"If he was still alive, we would have found him. He would have come back."

"Don't say that!"

Dane took her face in his hands. "Tom," he said, forcing her make eye contact with him. "You know as well as I do that it's true." River swallowed hard and nodded. "It's time to go," he gently nudged her.

"Um," River said, surveying the vehicle packed full of water, fuel and gear. "So where exactly am I supposed to sit?"

Jason turned to her. There was guilt in his eyes. "Yeah, about that...," he trailed off.

"You're going to have ride in the RV with Dale," Dane informed her bluntly.

"Pardon?"  _They had to be joking._

"In the RV," Dane said slower, spelling it out for her. "With Dale."

What he was saying didn't make sense. "I don't understand," River said, shaking her head.

"We're going to the CDC," Jason blurted out.

"The what?"

"The CDC," Glenn chimed in as he was passing with one last armful of gear. It looked like he had a folded up lawn chair and tarp. "The Center for Disease Control. Come on, I saved you a seat."

River held her hands up as if she could stop time for a moment. "First of all, what do you mean we're going to the CDC?"

"It's not safe here," Glenn explained. "Rick decided it was time we move. It was the CDC or Fort Benning. CDC won out."

River locked eyes with Dane. "We're not going home?" Dane shook his head. "JJ?"

"It was his idea," Dane informed her.

"Were you even planning on asking me what I wanted to do?" River balked at them.

Jason started to chuckle. "You guys never asked me for my opinion when you decided to follow the Dixon brothers out here."  _Payback was sweet._

"Dane?" River's pitch and volume were starting to rise a bit. A few onlookers were gathering. Not that she was overly object to going to the CDC with the group. Mostly she was upset that neither of the Jackson brothers had bothered to ask her feelings on the matter.

 

Dane tilted his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Bloody hell," River griped. "You're actually serious."

"Yeah," Dane said calmly as he nodded.

"Come on," Glenn encouraged her. He motioned towards the RV with his head as he was struggling not to drop his armload. "Like I said, I saved you a seat." River huffed and stalked towards the RV with Glenn. Her annoyance was plainly visible, but she'd given up on arguing.

So the three Canadians continued down the same path with the Atlanta Survivors for a while longer. They hit the road together in search for hope, safety, and other survivors at the CDC.


	14. The Pact

 

The camp outside of Atlanta had been a safe haven. Now that it had been attacked by a throng of Walkers they would never look at it the same. The majority of the remaining survivors were on the move searching for a cure for Jim and some hope at the CDC.

Carol and Sophia were riding with the Grimes family. They had lost Ed during the Walker invasion. While that was undoubtedly for the best, Carol had still lost her husband and Sophia her father, even if he was a bastard.

Andrea was riding in the truck with T-Dog. Shane rode my himself in the little black jeep. Similarity Daryl was alone driving the pick-up with Merle's motorcycle in the truck bed.

Dane and Jason drove together in their jeep. It was quiet in the pumpkin orange beast without River. The two guys had been moving along in almost complete absence of speech.

"Tom's totally pissed with us, you know," Jason mulled, finally breaking the silence.

Dane sighed. "I know." He'd been stressed and tired and hadn't handled anything right. He knew it.

"You especially," Jason said, looking his brother straight in the eye.

"Eye's on the road," Dane reminded him without much enthusiasm.

Not diverting his gaze, Jason suggested, "You should apologize."

"She'll get over it," Dane said with certainty. His brother just continued to stare at him, making him antsy. "Fine. Whatever. Just please will you watch where you're going." They hadn't been on the road more than fifteen minutes and he was already regretting letting his brother drive.

"Hey JJ, how you holding up?" Dane asked his brother after another long while.

"It's hard," was all Jason was able to choke out.

Dane nodded sympathetically. "I know," he said, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Amy had come to mean a lot to Jason in the brief time he'd known her. They'd been so different, yet Jason had really liked her. He only wished he'd had more time to get to know her better.

"You going to be okay?" Dane asked, concerned. His brother was prone to slipping into deep depressions.

Jason was quiet for a while. "Life doesn't end, right?"

"Right," Dane nodded. They fell into silence again as they continued to drive.  _Life doesn't end just 'cause bad shit happens_.

* * *

Dale was driving the RV while Glenn took care of reading the map. In the back Jaqui tended to Jim. The Walker bite he'd sustained was badly infected and causing him a tremendous amount of pain and discomfort. He was burning up from the fever despite Jaqui constantly sponging him with cool water and trying to soothe him.

No one talked. Thick was the air. Thick and heavy. Jim was dying and they all knew it. Yet everyone pretended as if they got him to the CDC he would be okay.  _They were all deluded_ , River thought bitterly to herself.

River paced back and forth down the length of the vehicle, always stopping short at the back. It was bad enough being trapped, but being trapped and having to listen to a dying man's screams was torture. On her next pass by the front of the vehicle she leaned around Glenn's seat.

"Are we almost there?" River asked. There was a hint of desperation in her voice.

Glenn smiled sympathetically remembering the trip they'd taken together in the cube van. "Sorry, not even close," he apologized.

Exhaling in defeat River cursed under her breath.

"Hey, language," Dale scolded from the driver's seat.

"Are you serious?" River gaped in amazement,

Dale turned to her, his face stern. "Yes I am. You and your..." he hesitated not a hundred percent sure of the relationship between River and the Jackson brothers, "guys need to be a little more cautious of what you're saying if you plan on staying. There's impressionable young minds."

River rolled her eyes at the old man. "Well they're not here right now are they?" The kids were in the Grimes' vehicle.

"Somehow I think you'll need the practice," Dale chuckled. "Besides, this is my RV. You ride with me, you follow my rules."

"We'll see about that," River grumbled turning to continue her pacing.

Suddenly the RV came to a halt. "Damnit!" Dale exclaimed. Twice he honked to let the rest of the caravan know to stop.

"Hey Dale," River sneered, as she turned back around. "Language," she gave the old man a wry smile.

Dale grinned back and laughed, "You got me there."

River bailed out of the RV almost before it had even stopped moving. All of the other vehicles were coming to a stop around them. The fresh air was a welcome change. It was stifling trapped inside the RV.

"What's going on?" Jaqui called from the back.

"Probably that radiator hose," Dale said as he made his way out of the vehicle. Sure enough, he was right. And since Merle had stolen the cube van when the rescue party had gone back to Atlanta they didn't have a replacement.

Everyone else was starting to mill about. Daryl paced back and forth with his crossbow, keeping watch for Walkers.

"I can see something up ahead," Shane informed them as he looked through his pair of binoculars. "I think it's a gas station."

They needed a new hose for the RV or some way to repair the one they already had. Otherwise they wouldn't be going anywhere. T-Dog agreed to go with Shane in search of anything that could work.

"Y'all keep your eyes open now," Shane warned. "I'll see what we can bring back."

* * *

Dane and Jason were the last ones to pull up. Shane and T-Dog were already on their way to the gas station. "What's going on?" Dane asked as the jeep came to a stop off the road near the RV.

"It's the damn hose," Dale told him, throwing his hands in the air.

Dane nodded barely hearing the old man. River was standing there, eyes narrowed, hands on her hips. Her icy stare was enough to chill his blood.

"Tom...," Dane walked towards her his hands up in surrender.

"Don't you Tom me," she shouted at him. "You're such an asshole."

"I know," he said lowering his head. "Look, I'm sorry, alright?"

"No, it's not alright," River squeaked at him.

Lori was watching the exchange. Having had her share of trouble with her own husband she wanted to see these two sort out their problems. River seemed a bit hot-headed, but there was no doubt she cared about Dane. And here he was trying to make amends. Unable to resist getting involved Lori walked over and placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"Hon, whatever he did, look at him," Lori gestured towards the pennant man standing helplessly before them. "He deserves another chance."

River glared at Dane and then glanced around. Carol nodded enthusiastically in agreement with Lori. Since when, she wondered, had she acquired an audience, and why the hell did any of them care about her argument with Dane. She argued with those boys all the time. It was inevitable when you spent as much time with someone as she did with them.

"You going to be okay?" Jason asked her, genuinely concerned. Somehow he'd made it out of the jeep and through the sea of people.

River eyed him up. "Life doesn't end just 'cause bad shit happens," she reiterated. Years of hearing it, it'd become a mantra of sorts. Dane and Jason both smiled, starting to feel better. "I mean, you didn't find me hanging from a tree branch or anything, did you?" It was a cheap shot to be sure.

"Autumn River Thompson," Dane scolded. "That was uncalled for. We were trying to apologize for Christ's sake."

River shrugged. She knew it was low. After all, she'd been the first one they'd called when Jason had discovered the body of their father. While Dane was on the phone with the police she'd sat on the ground cradling Jason in her arms. In the years that followed she was with them through all their ups and downs as they learned to deal with their grief.

"Feel better?" Dane asked grumpily.

River nodded thoughtfully. "A little, actually. Yeah."

_If that's what it took,_ Dane thought. "We even then?"

"Sure."

"Look, I know Liam was important to you," Dane started. "I should have been more sensitive. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"Fuckin' right," River agreed.

"What'd we just talk about?" Dale said exasperated.

River bit her bottom lip and looked helplessly at the old man. "Guess you were right, I do need the practice, eh?"

"I'm human; I made a mistake," Dane admitted. "Can you forgive me?"

"Hell, when do I ever not?" River asked.

"That a yes?"

"Yes, I forgive you and your shit-head little brother too."

Dale just shook his head. He doubted River was even aware she was doing it.

"Good," Dane said, glad to have things back to normal.

Time passed. River started to get restless. Slinging her .308 over her shoulder she headed off down the road.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" Lori asked as River passed by.

River looked over, surprised. Pointing down the road ahead of her she answered, "That way."

"Smart ass," Daryl muttered from where he was patrolling the perimeter.

"We could use you here," Rick told her. "Incase we get attacked."

"We could use all the guns we can get," Lori backed her husband up.

Rick nodded. "Besides, you proved yourself the other night when the camp was attacked. You're a good shot. We're lucky to have you around. All three of you."

Daryl scoffed, kicking up some dirt and continuing his patrol. No one ever said how they were lucky to have him around. No one ever said how they appreciated the food he provided, or acknowledged his part in protecting the group.

Jaqui burst out of the RV drawing everyone's attention. "Jim," she gasped. "It's bad. I don't think he can take anymore." Dutifully Rick went inside to talk to the man.

"Shoulda jus' taken care of him back at camp," Daryl complained.

Lori looked at him appalled. "You're horrible."

"It's what I would want," River said thoughtfully. "If I were in his position, it's what I would want."

"What is?" Dane asked, dragging Jason along behind him.

"If I were bit, like Jim, I'd want someone to put me out of my misery," River explained.

"What is wrong with all of you?" Lori asked, horrified.

"You're not in that RV," River pointed out. "You don't have to listen to him."

Jason meekly added, "I wouldn't want to come b-b-back as one of those things."

Dane nodded in agreement. "Me neither."

"At least someone's got some sense 'round 'ere," Daryl drawled, nodding towards the three Canadians.

"If I'm ever bit," Dane told them, "you have my permission to put a bullet in my head."

Jason vividly remembered Amy coming back and trying to gnaw on Andrea. "before I turn," he added.

"Same here," River agreed.

"Promise me," Dane demanded.

"We promise each other," Jason amended.

"If ever one of us is bit," River finalized their pact, "whoever is left puts them down on the spot." The three of them put their hands together and shook on it, sealing the agreement.


	15. The Center for Disease Control

 

Dale's Winnebago had broke down on the way to the CDC. Unable to bear the trip, Jim chose to stay behind. No longer was he trying to hide from death. The unfortunate incident had given River and the Jackson boys a chance to work things out. Using Jim as a catalyst they made a pact to put one another out of their misery should any of them get bit. Now the Atlanta Camp survivors were back on the road, leaving Jim behind and moving towards their only beacon of hope.

River knelt on the bench by the table, her face planted to the window. The country side was scrolling by outside the window. Occasionally there would be a Walker here or there, dotting the landscape. "There's one!" River would call out half-heartedly each time she spotted one.

Last time River had been down this road everyone's spirits had been high. She had been enjoying the sun while the Jackson brothers had the music blaring. Liam had hung his head out the side of the jeep, grinning into the wind. Life had been good. A stark contrast to this trip, but life went on.

"Hey Glenn," River called up to the front, "how much further to this CDC place?"

Glenn looked pleadingly at Dale. The old man shrugged sympathetically. It was the fifteenth time she'd asked since they left Jim sitting off the side of the road. Glenn was counting.

"A ways still," Glenn answered, yet again.

River exhaled sharply and dropped back onto her butt. She was bored, restless and feeling confined within the Winnebago.

* * *

Jason leaned forward, pressing play on the jeep's stereo. It whirred to life, starting back at the beginning of their one and only CD. There was no radio anymore. All transmissions had stopped a long time ago. Even the emergency broadcasts were no more. That one CD was all they had.

"If we see a record store anywhere, I vote we stop and get some new CDs," Jason whined. Road trips weren't the same without good music.

"I thought you could never get sick of Tom Petty?" Dane teased. Jason loved the classics, and Tom Petty was one of his favorites. He'd insisted it was all they needed for their trip down to the Trapper's Convention.

"That was before the world ended," Jason grumbled. "How was I to know this is all I'd ever get to listen to for the rest of my life."

Dane laughed. He was sick of  _Tom Petty's Greatest Hits_  by the time they'd reached the border on their way down to the United States. "You got it JJ. I'll keep my eyes open and let you know if I see one."

They both slipped back into the quiet, comfortable routine of watching the taillights of the vehicle ahead of them and looking out for Walkers. It was a monotonous trip. Mile after mile rolled by much like all the miles before. They'd see the odd Walker roaming about, but none that were near enough to cause them any concern.

* * *

Inside the pickup Daryl listened to the low rumble of the engine. There was a soothing quality to the sound. Still he missed his brother's uproarious laughter and brusque voice. Merle would always rant about this or that as they drove. Daryl never had to worry about what to say with him around. Of course, on his own he didn't have to worry about what to say either.

The sun was high in the sky, beating down an unforgiving heat on the cab of the truck. So far as Daryl could remember, the air conditioning had never worked. Hardly anything in the truck worked. It's why they'd dubbed the vehicle Bob. It stood for Bucket of Bolts. It had been Merle's idea, and it had stuck. But Bob got him where he needed to go.

To beat the heat, Daryl rolled down the window and hung one arm out. He slouched back comfortably in the seat with his other hand rested loosely on top of the steering wheel. He drifted down the highway, on the fringe of this pack of survivors.

"Th' hell?" Daryl muttered to himself sitting up a little straighter. Honking twice he pulled over to the side of the road. "I'll be damned," he gaped in amazement as he climbed out of the truck.

* * *

River jumped up when Dale brought the Winnebago to a halt. "Are we there yet?" she asked, anxious to get out of the RV.

"Jesus, she's like a little kid," Glenn commented under his breath.

"No, we're not there" Dale told her. "I'm not sure what's going on," he admitted. Rick was walking back towards the RV so Dale rolled down the window and asked the deputy, "Hey Rick, why are we stopped?"

"I'm not sure," Rick said shaking his head in bewilderment. "Daryl just pulled over into bolted into the woods. We're waiting for him to come out."

"Didn't he say what he was doing?" Glenn asked from the passenger seat.

Rick frowned. "He didn't say a word. Just took off."

Glenn shrugged. "Maybe he needed to take a leak."

River was staring out the window. If she wasn't mistaken this was the same spot that they'd first met the Dixon brothers. They'd been broken down on the highway with no fuel. Her, Dane, and Jason had been on their way to Atlanta when they'd crossed paths. The two rednecks had warned them off going to the city. It's how they'd ended up with this rag-tag group of survivors in the first place.

"Well, while we wait," River informed them, "I'm going to stretch my legs." She reached under the table and pulled out her rifle.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Dale asked her.

"Why wouldn't it be?" River blinked innocently.

"There could be Walkers out there, you could get attacked," Glenn blurted out. He was pretty shaken after the Walker attack on their camp. Most everybody was.

Dale nodded in agreement. "What Glenn said."

River held up her rifle. "I think I'll be alright," she assured them.

There was a knock at the door. Dale, Glenn, River and Jaqui all looked at each other. Dale shrugged and went to answer it.

"I think it's for you, River," Dale said with a smile. River got up and walked over to the door, expecting to see Dane or Jason.

"Liam!" River squealed with joy and excitement. The solid dog practically leapt into her arms, slathering slobbery kisses across her face. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his thick neck. "Oh Liam, you're okay," she crooned.

Looking up she met Daryl's blue eyes. He gave her a small nod and went to walk away.

"Daryl wait!" River called after him.

Daryl turned. Awkwardly he told her, "Maybe yer mutt's not so dumb after all." He had spotted Liam sniffing around the area where the trio had stopped to give the Dixon brothers a Jerry can of fuel. The dog must have gotten lost and then stumbled onto an area he recognized. Unable to pick up the scent trail the dog had waited for them to return, but gotten spooked by all of the vehicles.

River had gathered that Daryl wasn't much of one for physical demonstrations of affection. He pulled away every time she touched him. However, she was too overwhelmed with the happiness of Liam's return. She planted a quick kiss on Daryl's cheek. Daryl flinched as River came towards him then looked away. His cheek burning where her lips had been.

River smiled shyly. "Thank you, Daryl," she said, her voice slow and full of emotion. Tears were brimming in her eyes.

"Was nothin'," Daryl mumbled as he walked away.

* * *

The rest of the trip was much more tolerable inside the Winnebago. To Dale and Glenn's relief River did not ask again how much further they had to go. The young woman was curled up on the floor with Liam. Every time she stopped petting him he'd reach his paw out and tap her. River would laugh and ruffle his fur. They were blissfully happy together.

"Is that it?" Glenn asked, seeing the structure looming up ahead of them.

Dale nodded, reducing his speed. "We're here," he called back to River.

River and Liam both lifted their heads at the sound of the old man's voice. "The Center for Disease Control?" she asked.

"Yup," Glenn twisted around and grinned back at her. He didn't try to mask his hope or excitement. They'd made it. Everything was going to be okay.

River rolled onto her hands and knees. Using the bench seat and table, she climbed to her feet. Liam followed inches behind her as she walked to the front of the Winnebago where she looked out the window. There were sandbags and bodies. Tanks were abandoned. Weapons littered the street with the dead.

The excitement drained from Glenn's face and he swallowed nervously. "I guess they're all inside..."

"Let's hope you're right," Dale said grimly.

When the Winnebago stopped Dale, his three passengers and Liam filed out of the vehicle to join the others. It was nearing dark and the sight outside was worse than it had been from the window. It was hard to imagine that the CDC was anything other than completely abandoned. Everywhere flies buzzed around the hundreds of corpses. The Atlanta Camp survivors choked on the stench of death.

"Dane, Jason!" River called.

"Shh," Rick hissed at her. They were supposed to be quiet to avoid drawing the unnecessary attention of Walkers. Rick, Shane and Daryl went stalked carefully ahead, scanning for Walkers.

River bounded over to her companions, Liam at her side. "Look who's back!" she whispered excitedly.

Dane smiled at her, "We know." They'd seen Daryl lead the dog out of the woods.

River was on top of the world as she fell in line and made her way towards the building that had become the only hope for many among them. As they made it to the large metal door, that hope quickly withered away and the group succumbed to infighting.

"It was the wrong damn call, Rick," Shane shouted angrily. "This is a dead end."

Carol started to panic. Clutching Sophia close to her she whimpered, "Where are we going to go?"

"We can't be this close to the city after dark," Lori pointed out the obvious. There was rising panic in her voice as well.

"We keep on keeping on," Dane offered. Jason shrugged. River nodded. None of them saw the big deal. Unlike the rest of the group they hadn't been relying on the CDC. They'd come along because they cared for the group, but they were just as happy to stay on the road or set up camp somewhere else.

"Fort Benning is still an option," Shane offered.

Andrea stared at Shane in disbelief. "On what?" she demanded to know. "We have no food, no fuel. It's a hundred miles."

"We have a bit of spare fuel in the back of the jeep," River offered. It wouldn't go far in the gas guzzling Winnebago, or divided among the fleet of vehicles they all drove, but it was something. There would surely be cars to siphon along the way.

"Forget Fort Benning," Lori snapped. "We need answers tonight," she pleaded desperately. "Now."

Rick held a hand up to try and calm the masses. "We'll think of something," he assured them. It wasn't enough. The panic spread and everyone started to scatter and leave.

"The camera!" Rick exclaimed. "It moved."

Shane couldn't leave his friend and ex-partner behind. "You imagined it," he told him as he tried to pull Rick away from the steel door.

Tearing free of Shane's grasp, Rick desperately banged on the door. His pleas were directed at the camera. Behind him was a chorus of screaming, crying and begging to leave.

Dane walked calmly over to Rick. He was one of the only ones not panicking. "Come on Rick," he said, gently trying to guide Rick away from the door. "We should get going. We can find somewhere to set up for the night, away from the city," he suggested. "Tomorrow we will regroup and come up with a new plan." So the CDC was a bust, it wasn't that big of a deal.

Dane didn't get it. This was their last hope. If the CDC was gone there was nothing. No hope. This was it. This was all there'd ever be.

"You're killing us!" Rick yelled accusingly at the camera. "You're killing us!"

Even Rick was starting to doubt having seen the camera move. Maybe there wasn't anyone there after all. Just when he was about to give up hope like the rest of them the door opened. Silence fell as they all stared into the light spilling out from inside. They were saved.


	16. Safe and Settling In

 

The group of survivors completed their trip from the camp near the quarry to the CDC. Along the way they were rejoined by River's Chesapeake Bay Retriever, Liam. At first the CDC had appeared to be a dead end. However, after much screaming and despair the doors had opened, renewing their hope and faith.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Edwin Jenner said looking the group over, "but there's no dogs allowed in the facility."

"Well doctor," River spat the words defiantly, "I don't give a flying fuck about your rules. Liam is coming with us." The woman's green eyes burned, daring the man to challenge her.

"We ain't leaving the mutt behind," Daryl said backing her up.

Rick also stood forward making eye contact with the man. "Surely, doctor Jenner," his tone was far more diplomatic than the previous two's had been, "you can make an exception, given the circumstances." He let his eyes do the pleading.

Dr. Edwin Jenner frowned. This was a research facility and they followed the strictest of protocols. He was already breaking a dozen rules by taking this group of survivors in.

"Alright," Jenner said thoughtfully. "The dog can stay but you keep him under control," he said pointing at River. "I don't want him running around loose."

"Whatever," River muttered, her hand looped protectively through Liam's collar. She'd lost him once. No one was taking her dog away from her.

Inside Jenner informed them of two pertinent facts. Firstly, that they'd better have everything they needed because once that door closed it would not be opening again. Secondly that the price of admission was to submit to a blood test.

This first piece of information sent River into a tailspin. Dane had to drag her by the hand to prevent her from turning around an walking back out. Being told she couldn't leave made her feel like a death row inmate trapped in a tiny six by six cell. The claustrophobia and sense of impending doom were overwhelming.

They were being led down into the structure via the elevator. "I hate n-n-needles," Jason stammered, dreading what was coming next. He had his eyes closed in an attempt to pretend that he wasn't crammed in the small space with so many people. All he wanted was to get through the ride without having a panic attack.

"Quit being such a baby," River said, rolling her eyes.

"Shut it," Jason snapped, wiping the sweat beading on his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

Dr. Jenner looked at Jason skeptically. "You'll have to submit to a blood test all the same," he insisted, no doubt thinking the boy could be trying to hide a bite.

"We'll hold him down if we have to," Dane offered.

The door to the elevator opened and Jason burst out, glad to have some personal space again. Leaning against the wall he gave his breathing a chance to return to a more normal rate.

"Gee thanks Dane," Jason grumbled sarcastically. "You're such a nice brother."

River scoffed. "Suck it up princess."

"Some friend," Jason muttered.

River punched him lightly in the shoulder. "A friend will tell you what you want to hear," she told him. "But a true friend... A true friend will tell you what you don't want to hear anyways."

"Whatever," Jason dismissed her, not in the mood for her words of wisdom.

Dale grinned at River. "I think she's onto something there." The old man made a mental note of the saying.

"C'mon JJ," Dane said encouragingly. "Why don't you go first and get it out of the way."

Jason shook his head. "No, that's okay. I'll p-pass."He ran his hand nervously through his hair. River was conspiring with Shane and T-Dog. Jason watched her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other fearing what she might be saying to them.

"Sorry JJ," River said as they approached him.

"Oh no you don't!" Jason objected as the three of them picked him up. He struggled against them in a futile attempt to get free. "Put me down!"

Once they had sat Jason down in the chair, Dane swooped in and grabbed his brother's arm. He held it with a firm grip, keeping it still so that Jenner could get his sample.

"Better hurry doctor," Dane suggested.

"I hate you all," Jason whined helplessly. Before he'd even finished his sentence it was over. Jenner had his sample and Jason was free to go.

"Leave it alone or you'll make it bleed," Jenner warned him as Jason rubbed the patch of skin where the needle had been.

River wrapped an arm around the younger brother's shoulder. "See, that wasn't so bad was it?"

Jason glared at her, "Yes it was."

River grinned from ear to ear. "Liar."

"Fine," Jason relented. "It wasn't that bad."

"Told you so," River said, ruffling his hair.

Jason quietly waited for the others to give their samples. He felt a little foolish when even Carl and Sophia took it better than he had. The kids had whined a bit, but no one needed to hold them down.

* * *

Once all the formalities were dealt with their new host treated the group of survivors to a dinner unlike they'd had in a long time. There was food, wine, and lots of it. They laughed, and joked and smiled, feeling happy and safe for the first time they could remember since the Wildfire outbreak. Things were going to be okay.

Spoiling the jubilant mood, Shane pushed their host to know what had happened to all of the other scientists. Many had left to be with their families, Jenner told them. More bolted when things got worse. Of the few that remained all except him had "opted out."

River reached over under the table and squeezed Jason's hand. The Jackson brother's father had  _opted out_ when Jason was only ten. Suicide was a topic that he didn't deal well with. There were too many old emotions and unanswered questions. Guilt formed a tight ball in her stomach for her comment earlier when she'd lashed out at Dane.

Closing his eyes Jason quickly downed the last of his red wine. Dale offered to refill it for him and Jason obligingly held out the glass.

"Easy tiger," Shane commented, seeing the rate the boy was going. "You're not even of legal age yet," the law man reminded him.

Jason gave him the finger. "B-b-back home I am."

"Just let him be," River quietly told Shane. She knew where Jason's head was at, and if he wanted to drown those memories, no one should blame him.

After the much appreciated meal Jenner gave the group a tour of the facilities. Without a doubt the highlight of the tour was the revelation that there was hot water for showers. The littlest of things that they'd all taken for granted before the world ended had become some of the greatest luxuries in this post-apocalyptic hell.

* * *

After everyone was cleaned up most of the group congregated in the rec room. It was a very comfortable space. Carl and Sophia were sitting at the coffee table playing a board game. Carol and Lori smiled to each other on one of the couches. How wonderful it was to see their kids having the chance to just be kids for once.

Daryl was sitting on the counter, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. T-Dog had claimed a chair for himself. Jaqui leaned against the side of it reading one of the books from the shelves. Dane wandered around checking out the books and games, while Glenn and Jason occupied the other couch. Somehow the Asian boy had got Jason engaged in a conversation about movies.

Out of the three Canadians, Jason was the most interested in movies and music. Dane and River had never had the time to bother with them. Dane had been too busy raising his little brother after their father's suicide and had given them up. River's hippy parents hadn't believed in owning a TV. At least it was a normal activity that gave Jason, who most needed it, a way to relate to others in the group.

"N-no... No way." Jason stuttered.

Glenn's jaw dropped. "Come on man, everybody knows that Tom Cruise's best film was Top Gun. It was a classic."

Jason shook his head vehemently. "It may have b-b-been a classic, b-but..."

River stood in the doorway and cleared her throat interrupting their little debate. "Dane, where are my clothes?" She was wrapped in nothing but a soft, white towel. Liam stood faithfully at her side. The dog hadn't let her out of his sight since Daryl had found him off the highway and returned him to her.

Lori gaped in shock. "Carl, cover your eyes," she told her son.

"What makes you think I'd know?" Dane asked with a shrug. "Where'd you leave 'em?"

"In a pile on the floor. When I came out they were gone," River griped. "It's not funny," she said accusingly.

Jason progressed from giggling silently to himself to stifled laughter. "Maybe Liam ate them," he offered.

"JJ!" River exclaimed. "You bastard. Just you wait, I'll get you back," she threatened There was no doubt she'd make good on the promise.

"It wasn't me," Jason protested.

River eyed him suspiciously and demanded to know, "Why are you laughing then?"

Jason gestured to the crowd. River glanced around, suddenly becoming aware that it wasn't just her and the Jackson boys. There was a room full of people staring at her. Everyone except for Daryl who had politely and somewhat awkwardly averted his gaze. Having spent time around his big brother, Merle, it surprised River that he wasn't just gawking at her.

Daryl didn't need to gawk. In that moment when she'd first walked in he'd seen enough. The way the light fell casting a shadow under her collar bone. The smoothness of her skin. Her hair, for the first time not done up in braids, loosely framing the curves of her face. River looked more her age, more womanly. Something stirred within him.

"Carl," Lori scolded. "What'd I tell you. No peeking." The young boy was trying to get a glimpse of the half-naked woman between his fingers. Boys would be boys.

River rolled her eyes. "Everything that needs to be covered is covered," she informed the mother.

"Barely," Lori choked out. "If that towel was any shorter..."

"Whatever," River shrugged it off. She wasn't embarrassed by her body. It was just skin and it wasn't like she was even showing anything. "Seriously though, what'd you guys do with my clothes?"

A timid voice spoke up from the other couch. "It wasn't them."

River glanced over in surprise. "Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," Carol said. Her face was flushed and she was unable to meet River's gaze. The fact that River was so surprisingly calm and comfortable was a stark contrast to Carol's modesty. "I thought that I would wash them for you. They were filthy," she explained. "I'd assumed you had something else to wear."

River sighed and tilted her head to the side, staring straight at Dane. "I would have, had someone not relegated me to the RV and then left all my stuff out in the jeep."

"Sorry," Dane said with a shrug.

"They'll be done soon," Carol promised her. "Maybe someone can lend you something to wear until then." River continued to stare at Dane.

"Forget it. All my shirts are in the wash too," Dane told her, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

Lori rummaged through her bag. "Here, you can wear these," she said, offering River a pair of PJ's.

River smiled appreciatively at the woman. "Thank you, Lori."

* * *

"Damn bro! Your girlfriend is hot," T-Dog told Dane after River had left to go get dressed.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"What?" Everyone in the room stopped and stared dumbfounded at Dane.

"She's not my girlfriend," Dane repeated, taking a seat in an empty chair.

An awkward silence fell over them all. Everyone in the room had assumed that the two of them were sleeping together.

"But you two..." Lori trailed off. Suddenly some of the looks and comments that had been circulating around made sense. Lori's over interest in their arguments, for instance.

"That's crazy man," T-Dog said shaking his head. "You mean to tell me you're sleeping next to that every night and you're not getting any?"

"Alright," Lori said a little too loudly as she stood. "I think it's time to get you into bed," she told Carl.

Carol stood up as well. "You too Sophia," she said, herding her daughter out of the room.

Recognition dawned on T-Dog's face. "Wait, if you and River aren't..." There wasn't exactly a sea of women to choose from anymore.

"I think she's interested in someone else," Glenn said sheepishly.

Jaqui looked up from her book. "Who?"

Glenn glanced around nervously, his eyes lingering on Daryl a little too long.

"You're kidding?" Jaqui leaned forward eagerly. It was the sort of gossip she loved to indulge in.

Glenn shook his head. "Nope."

"Huh? Who?" T-Dog asked having missed the boy's tell. Glenn gestured sharply with his eyes. "Dixon?" He bellowed tactlessly, the wine from dinner clouding his judgement.

Daryl's stomach did a backflip. Merle's voice quickly filled his head scolding him.  _Tha's the last thing ya need, little brother. Some dumb bitch slowin' ya down. Gonna git yerself killed ya start worrying 'bout some fine piece of ass instead of coverin' yer own._

"Man, what the hell does she see in him?" T-Dog wondered aloud, insulted at the prospect of being overlooked in favor of a redneck asshole.

"Hey Jackass," Daryl growled. "I'm sittin' righ' here," he spat indignantly.  _Who ya kiddin', Darlena. The nigger's right, ya ain't got nothin' t' offer her._ Daryl hopped down off the counter.  _To hell with 'em_. He stalked angrily off towards the door.


	17. I Never

 

The group of survivors had made it safely to the CDC. After enjoying an extravagant meal and some hot showers they hung out relaxing. Glenn had let slip that He knew a River was interested in Daryl. An intoxicated T-Dog had balked at it, insulting Daryl and driving him out of the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" River grinned at Daryl, blocking the door. This time she was dressed far more modestly in Lori's Pjs, her hair back up in her typical braids. Her inquiry was met with an awkward silence. Daryl wouldn't meet her eyes, but what else was new.

"I raided the liquor cabinet," River offered, holding up a couple of bottles. No one said anything, they all just continued to stare at her. A funny feeling started to manifest in her gut but she chose to ignore it. "This time, Daryl Dixon," she informed him confidently, sticking a finger in his chest and pushing him back towards the group, "you are going to join us for drinks." The awkward silence became even more awkward.

"Umm..." Glenn stammered, wondering if he should tell River he'd given her feelings up. He'd known ever since he caught her checking the redneck out back in Atlanta. He'd called her on it then, and ever since it'd been plain to see for him.

Daryl reached up and roughly grabbed the finger River was poking him with. "Outta mah way," he growled at her. His touch sent her heart fluttering.

Daryl's blue eyes bored into the woman, an intimidating, dangerous stare. River just stood there staring back up at him with those bright, big, green eyes of hers. Unlike the rest of the survivors, she wasn't afraid of him. She made no move to back away or free herself from his grasp. He may be rough, but he wasn't hurting her. Daryl narrowed his eyes and released her.

"Move," Daryl demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

River stood her ground. "You don't get to be Mr. Antisocial tonight," she told him. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, drowning out the sound of her own voice. She wondered if anyone else could hear it.  _Don't be foolish. Of course they can't. You_ _gotta stop with this school-girl crush shit, she scolded herself._ It wasn't just a school-girl crush, though.

"Whateve'." Daryl turned around and stalked back to the counter with his bottle of whiskey. "Ain't got fuck all else t' do anyhow."

Jason released the breath he'd been holding. He never knew what to expect with Daryl and for a moment he'd thought there was going to be trouble.

Dane raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd sworn off drinking, Tom?" Their first night in the camp by the quarry had left River feeling far less than decent in the morning. It had culminated in her puking all over her boots in front of half the camp population.

River slid to the floor, leaning back against Dane's chair. "Resolutions are made to be broken," she informed him, happily raising a bottle as if in toast.

Liam flopped down beside her and rested his heavy head in her lap. Reflexively she stroked his head and ran her fingers through his wavy coat. It seemed too good to be true that he was back. She liked the tangible feel of his fur under her hand and the weight of his head resting on her leg. It assured her that he was real and that she wasn't just crazy with grief and denial.

"Hand me one of those," Dane asked, grabbing a bottle of wine from River. "Anyone need a refill?" he asked as he popped the cork.

Once everyone's glasses were filled River said, "I never?" tilting her head up to Dane then looking questioningly across at Jason.

Glenn wasn't following. "What?"

River widened her eyes. "You haven't played  _I never_  before?" Glenn shook his head.

"Man,  _I never_  even heard of it before," T-Dog commented taking a big sip of wine. River stuck her tongue out at the joke. Daryl exhaled, scoffing at the interaction.

Dane explained the rules. "We take turns. Someone will make a statement. For example  _I never cheated on a test_. If you have never cheated on a test, you do nothing. If you have cheated, then you take a drink."

"Pretty simple," Glenn admitted.

"Sounds like fun," Jaqui remarked excitedly.

"Fuckin' childish," Daryl muttered.

T-Dog glared at the redneck. "No one asked for your opinion."

"Best watch yer tone," Daryl warned.

"Man, it's not like you have to play," T-Dog grumbled.

"I ain't goin' nowhere," Daryl said, leaning forward. He wanted to piss T-Dog off.

T-Dog let out a tiny huff. "Great," he muttered under his breath.

"Besides, I wanna see the chinaman git shit-faced." Daryl couldn't just admit that the idea of actually being a part of the group appealed to him.

"I'm Korean," Glenn corrected half-heartedly. It was getting old.

"I'll start," Dane offered.

"Wait!" Glenn stopped him. "I got a quick question. Can you say I never... Except you did?"

Dane clarified for him. "Yup. You just gotta drink if you do."

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Alright then," Dane started over.

"Hold on," Glenn interrupted again. "If someone says I never, but you have, how much do you have do drink?"

"Seriously man?" T-Dog stared incredulously at the kid. "You just take a drink. It's a freaking game for Christ's sake."

"Okay, okay," Glenn held his hands up in surrender. "Let's start."

Dane raised an eyebrow and waited for a second to see if there were going to be any more questions for the worlds simplest game before he got started. When he was satisfied that everyone understood the rules he went ahead.

"I'll start with a simple one. I never cheated on a test." Dane stole his own example. Everyone except for him and Jaqui raised their glasses. Daryl was drinking straight from the bottle.

"You guys are bad," Jaqui said wagging her finger at the bunch of them.

River went next. "I never broke a bone." Jason and Daryl were the only two that drank.

"Come on Tom," Jason protested. "This isn't fair, the three of us know eachother too well."

She knew Jason had broken his leg in a hunting accident a few years back. They'd been making their way along a bluff when he'd slipped on some loose rocks. It was a miracle that his leg was all he'd broke. It never deterred him from getting back out there though.

"Guess we'll all be good and drunk by the end of the night," River offered. Then looking around surprised she added, "I thought we'd have a few more injuries among us." What she didn't realize was that Daryl had had enough broken bones as a child for all of them combined.

"We're a fortunate bunch," Jaqui offered.

River tilted her head toward the resident redneck. "What'd you break?" she asked him.

"Thought this game was called I never," Daryl snapped aggressively, successfully avoiding the question.

Glenn jumped in out of turn. "I never ate squirrel before the Wildfire outbreak." The four people he expected to drink, drank up. "I knew it!"

"I never ate cat," Daryl retorted staring back at the Asian boy.

Glenn exhaled, "Really Dixon?"

Daryl shrugged. "Don' all ya chinamen eat cat?" he asked teasing the kid.

"I'm Korean!" Glenn exclaimed exasperated. "For Christ's sake, I'm Korean, not Chinese. And for the record," he informed him, "no we do not all eat cat."

"Same thing," Daryl muttered.

"Cat's g-good," Jason admitted as he took a drink. He was met with a host of horrified looks.

"I think he was referring to house cats, JJ," Dane laughed,

T-Dog's face was still contorted in disgust. "What's he referring to then?"

Jason laughed, all the wine from dinner working its magic on his anxiety. "Lynx, bobcat" he answered. "Cougar."

Daryl snickered at the last one.

"Mountain Lion, d-dickwad," Jason clarified, stifling his own laughter.

"Aww hell no, did JJ just call Dixon a dickwad?" T-Dog asked in shock. "Man, you better watch it bro or your gonna get an arrow in the ass when you're not looking." Everyone laughed.

Jaqui smiled at River, expecting to get the guys drinking. "I never went to a strip club."

Glenn glanced nervously at the floor, his hands in his lap. He was embarrassed being the only guy not drinking. His jaw dropped when he saw River take a sip.

Jaqui's eyes widened with surprise too. "River!"

"What?" River asked giving her most innocent face. It was of course, a little more complicated. But like Daryl had said,  _the game was called I never_. It wasn't time to get into life stories.

Jason giggled, loosening up with the alcohol. "Tom used to b-b-be a dancer," he spilled.

"JJ!" River exclaimed.

"What?" T-Dog gaped open mouthed in disbelief. River nodded. "You don't exactly look like the stripper type," he noted examining the woman. She was short, fit and while she had some nice curves it wasn't the leggy, tiny-waist and big-breasted woman he was used to seeing in the clubs.

"Thanks asshole," River muttered offended. "Guess they can't afford to be as picky up in Fort Nelson," she grumbled.

Jaqui's jaw was still on the floor. "You," she paused looking River in the eyes, "were a stripper?" She was struggling to wrap her head around the idea. River spent most of her time wandering around in a loose fitting t-shirt and flannel men's pajama bottoms or jeans playing with her dog, hunting or trapping. It didn't fit.

"One of my many jobs," River said dismissively. It wasn't a big deal. "It didn't pan out." None of her jobs ever did.

Daryl realized he didn't like the idea in the least. The thought of other men seeing her take her clothes off, worse yet paying for her to do so, filled him with a sort of protective jealously. It was before he met her and River wasn't his, he reminded himself.  _And she ain't never gonna be_. Still, the irrational feeling remained.

"Maybe 'cause you were underage?" Dane pointed out.

"This just gets better and better," Jaqui said her voice dripping with sarcasm.

River glared at Dane. "Maybe 'cause you wouldn't mind your own business and were going to blow my cover?"

"Maybe someone needed to," Dane countered. For every word they said, a hundred more passed unspoken between them. It was the protective big-brother routine again. As much as River played at being annoyed by it, she felt lucky to have Dane looking out for her.

"Wait! So is that where you got the name?" T-Dog asked her. "Is River supposed to be some sort of stripper name?"

River laughed. "No, that I got thanks to my hippy parents. My first name's actually Autumn, but I haven't gone by that in a long, long time."

"Never mind names," Jaqui said. "I want to know what the hell she was doing working in a strip joint when she was underage."

River was starting to get pins and needles in her leg from the way she was sitting, so she shifted her weight. Liam had been sleeping, the movement disturbed him. He lifted his head and stared at her with his big amber eyes. "It's okay bud, we're not going anywhere," she told him, stroking his head. Liam watched her for a second longer then went back to sleep, his head on her lap.

"Don't you try and avoid it," Jaqui insisted mistaking the movement for discomfort, "spill the beans girl."

"It's not as bad as it sounds," River protested. "I was seventeen. It was only for a couple of months. Hell, that was a whole decade ago. I needed the money. Dane was even the one who got me the fake ID from some friends of his." Really, it wasn't a big deal.

"Some friend," Jaqui said disgustedly. To be fair, that hadn't exactly been the reason Dane got the ID for River.

Glenn held his hands up for them all to stop for a moment. "Hold on guys, I'm confused," he told them. "So first Dane gets you the ID, and then he tries to turn you in?" Glenn's face contorted as he tried to work it out. "I don't get it."

River rolled her eyes. "I thought we were playing a game here?"

"No way girl," Jaqui insisted. "You're not getting out of this that easy. What does a seventeen year old need so bad they get a fake ID and take off their clothes and dance for money?" she persisted.

River knew Jaqui wasn't going to drop it. "My parents both died in a car accident when I was fifteen," she told her bluntly. "I had no other living relatives, so I became a ward of the court until my nineteenth birthday. I ended up with some real loser foster parents, so I ran away."

"I got sick of hiding in the Jackson's barn and eating the leftovers that Dane would sneak out to me. My hunting skills were pretty piss poor back then. I actually was a terrible shot," River glanced at Daryl searching his face for some sort of reaction. She wondered if he would think less of her because of her past. Daryl was squinting one eye as he listened intently to River's story. River mistook it for a look of disgust and her heart sank.

"I just wanted to get an apartment in town," River's tone had become more defiant. "To have a real roof over my head and some food in the fridge," she admitted refusing to be ashamed for anything she may have done.

"Yeah but... Why a stripper?" Glenn asked. Of all the professions she could have picked from.

"I was still in school. I could work evenings, and it paid well enough that I could make do working part-time." River explained.

Dane chuckled and held up his glass, "Tom's always been a pragmatist."

As socially awkward as Daryl was, he was actually very good at reading people. He heard her story, but what what stood out most was what she wasn't saying. River wasn't shy, she didn't give a damn what people thought. If she was leaving things out it wasn't because she cared about people's opinions.

"Anyways, enough about me," River said, realizing somehow the conversation had devolved into her life story anyways. Or part of it. "I believe you're up T-dog."

Daryl found himself wishing she would go on.  _Th' hell's wrong wit' ya?_ It wasn't like him to give a shit about anyone. Yet here was this girl, and he wanted to know her past. Wanted to hear her voice. To watch every nuance of her eyes and face as she talked. To know her.

_Ya pansy ass mother fucker, yer gettin' soft. Didn't ol' Merle teach ya t' be a man? Ya forgotten already, little brother?_ Daryl tried to push the feelings he had for her aside. It wasn't as easy as he'd hoped it'd be. Merle's voice continued to taunt him inside his head.

The game went around and around, and the participants got more drunk with every turn until they were all slurring their words. Unable to let go, and lacking any discretion with the alcohol T-Dog grinned. Suddenly he was more sure than ever about his suspicions. Maybe River wasn't Dane's girlfriend, but there had to be history there somewhere. He was sharing his tent with an ex-stripper, for Christ's sake.

"I never had sex with anyone in this room," T-Dog said, his gaze fixated on River. No one drank.

"What th'ell's this about?" River whispered running her words together as she tilted her head back to look up at Dane.

"He think's we're sleeping together," Dane told her a little louder than he meant to. "Apparently he doesn't believe me that we're not."

"God damnit man," T-Dog remarked loudly and clearly inebriated. "What's wrong with you? If I'as you I'd..."

Dane looked down at River, who was leaning up against his chair, cheeks rosy from the wine. She was his best friend, but she could never be anything more than that. They were too close, like family.

"Okay," River near hollered, standing up and raising her hands to silence T-Dog. "That's enough!" She was more drunk than she'd realized. The room spun and her balance was waffling.

Daryl leaned back casually and crossed his arms over his chest. "I ain't never wanted t' sleep wit' anyone 'ere," he played off of T-Dog's last question.

"Ain't never is a d-double negative," Jason pointed out without making eye contact with anyone. He was staring at his feet.

"Shut it, kid," Daryl growled, repeating his statement in a long drawn out drawl, "I never wanted t' sleep wit' anyone 'ere."

Daryl's blue eyes locked with River's green ones in a steely-eyed staring contest. Not breaking that eye contact River drank slowly. Daryl narrowed his eyes and time dragged out forever. Finally he brought the bottle up to his lips, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. They may as well have been the only two in the room.


	18. Confessions

 

Daryl started awake, sweat pouring down his face. His heart skipped a beat in the unfamiliar surroundings and he scanned quickly for his weapon. The crossbow was leaning in the corner where he'd left it. There were no Walkers. There was no one standing over him. Relieved he relaxed back into the couch.

A clock on the wall read three-o-clock. It's batteries not yet run dry. Underground and cut off from the outside world there was no other way to tell time. Curled up in front of the door was River's mutt. Daryl didn't see the girl. In order to get a better view of the room, he pulled himself so he was propped up on one elbow.

"Uhg, hey," a groggy voice protested as his foot found it's way jabbing into her kidney.

Startled, and still muddled from the alcohol, Daryl looked to the other end of the couch. River was curled up, her legs half-intertwined with his. The Pjs that Lori had leant her had rode up, exposing the curve of her hip and part of her belly. The soft skin was so inviting.

"What are you still doing here?" Daryl asked coldly, his words still slightly slurred. He was determined to push away any desire he felt. Falling for River could only end badly. What had Merle always told him?  _Whatever ya do, little brother, don' go gittin emotionally attached_. It was probably too late already.

River was taken aback. There was no way she could have misjudged that severely the sparks that had been between them earlier. It's impossible that moment occurred only in her head. Struggling through the fog of alcohol River tried to remember what had happened after they'd been playing  _I never_  with the other survivors.

It was the middle of the night and River was still sleepy. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her wrist and peered through the dim light at Daryl. His face was a hard mask of anger. Underneath it was impossible to tell what he was feeling or thinking.

"Trying to sleep," River grumbled, attempting to reposition herself and get comfortable again.

"Get out," Daryl demanded.

River tucked her knees up towards her chest and nestled her shoulder into the couch. Closing her eyes she reached out and gave Daryl the finger. She was going back to sleep.

"I said git out," Daryl repeated in a quiet, menacing tone. He wanted her gone before he could have the chance to change his mind.

"What?"

"You deaf?" Daryl sneered at her. "Take yer mutt an' go."

"Wow Dixon, you really are an ass," River stated, sitting bolt upright.

He snorted derisively at her. "What'd ya expect?"

"How the hell am I ever supposed to know what to expect with you?" she countered.

Staring into his blue eyes River remembered bits and pieces. Their bodies slamming into the wall. Daryl's weight pressed against her. His rough, calloused hands pinning her arms above her head as she arched her body longingly into his. The way one of his hands was large enough to wrap around both her wrists. How his other hand fumbled with the buttons of his jeans. How badly she had wanted him. She had needed him. He had needed her too.

"I can't do this Jeckyl and Hyde shit!" River exclaimed facing him as he was now. Cold and distant.

Daryl snorted dismissively. His sleeveless shirt was plastered to his chest from a fitful sleep. It looked much as it had as they had wrestled with each other. River trying to crawl onto Daryl's lap, reaching for his shirt. Him flipping her onto her back, underneath him, staring down at her his eyes filled with intensity. Falling to the floor. Their bodies hot and sticky with sweat. Each of them clawing and grasping at a need left too long unfulfilled. Bits and pieces.

River's eyes settled on a mark above the neckline of Daryl's shirt, previously hidden by the layers of dirt and grime. Unconsciously she reached out and ran a finger tenderly along the scar, wondering how he had got it. Daryl hissed and withdrew. River's head swam with the sense of deja vu.

"Earlier I thought..." River trailed off, pulling her hand back to herself. Her mind kept going back to that moment when their eyes had locked in the rec room. Everyone else had just faded away. He'd wanted her then. She had seen the fire in his eyes as he stared her down.

"You know, I actually like you, Daryl," River stated plainly. It's not like she'd just been looking to get laid. Hell, she couldn't even remember if she had, although she had her suspicions that things had never got that far.

Daryl grimaced and looked away, his fists clenched tightly at his side. He wished she would just leave. The way she looked at him with her big green eyes, gnawing on her bottom lip, waiting, expecting. Whatever it was that she was looking for, she would never find it with him. Her words only poured salt on that raw wound. Instinct kicked in and he wanted to push her as far away as he could, protecting himself.

"I thought, just maybe, you liked me too," River told him. He did. That was the problem.

Daryl had allowed himself, for a moment clouded by alcohol, to think that maybe River could be his. That maybe she actually cared about him. That things could work. Then he fell back into old ways, his anger bubbling to the surface. Something he could deal with, something he could understand. She didn't know him, and if she did, she wouldn't want him anymore. That's what he'd always been told.

Daryl was afraid to let her get close. Everyone who he ever let close to him had hurt him. He'd built up his hard exterior to protect himself from people. His anger kept them at a distance. It was better that way. No one to look after, not relying on anyone but himself. It was safe.

Biting her lip River recalled the taste of his skin. The feel of Daryl's mouth pressed firmly against hers. His tongue, tangled with hers, searching for something. She could practically still feel the heat of his breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Those memories were real. They had been drunk, both of them, but they had wanted each other. Now it was his icy stare that sent shivers down her spine, but not the good kind.

"If I'm wrong, then tell me, and I'll go. I'll leave you the hell alone from now on if that's what you want." River had him backed into a corner. So Daryl did the only thing he knew to do when he felt trapped. He lashed out.

"I don't wantcha here, jus' go," Daryl snarled at her. "Tha' plain 'nuff for ya?"

"Oh yeah, that's plain as day," River said as she got up and stomped across the room to the door. "C'mon Liam, let's go." The dog lumbered up and out the door with his master, who slammed it behind them.

Daryl collapsed back into the couch, fighting back his emotions. Fighting back the urge to run after her.

There was a bottle of whiskey on the floor next to the couch. Picking it up and tipping it towards his lips Daryl expected to feel the hot liquid pouring down his throat. Instead there was nothing. Just an empty promise to numb the pain. With all the force he could muster he chucked the empty bottle at the wall. It shattered into thousands of tiny shards.

* * *

It was early when Carol woke. There was no clock in the room her and Sophia occupied, but her body told her it was early morning, pre-dawn. Her daughter was still sound asleep. Her face relaxed and free of worry. Sophia was so sweet, so precious.

Yesterday there had been no hope. Standing outside the CDC Carol had thought it was the end. The two of them had survived for so long, through so much. All the nights that she had prayed to God only to have her prayers go unanswered. But he had come through when they had really needed him. Those doors had opened, the light spilling out like the gates of heaven.

Tiptoeing across the room, so not to wake her sleeping daughter, Carol made her way to the door. She poured herself a glass of water from the sink. It was cool and fresh. There was no waiting for Shane to return from the quarry with the day's supply. There were no reminders to boil before use. This was the closest they could hope to get back to the lives they'd known before the Wildfire outbreak.

The sound was so faint that Carol almost missed it. Unsure, she pressed her ear to the door and listened for it. There it was, she heard it again.

Cautiously she opened the door and peered down the hallway. In the near darkness she could still make out the shape of River, curled up on the floor with Liam. Her face was buried in his thick fur, muffling her sobs, but not swallowing them completely. The girl didn't hear her approach, but the dog did. Lifting his head and making sure everything was okay.

Carol knelt down at River's side. "River, hon, it's Carol," she said. Carol hadn't wanted to startle the young woman who'd given no indication that she was aware of the other woman's presence.

At the sound of Carol's voice, River looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy. She quickly wiped away the tears from her face.

"What's wrong, hon?" Carol asked her, a pained frown on her face. This was the woman who had given her own food for Sophia, a little girl she had no ties to. Who had gone hungry without a word to make sure that Carol's daughter could eat.

River opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead she just shook her head, clutching tightly to Liam's fur. The dog swung his head around, licking the salt from her cheeks and poking her with his wet, cool nose. Reflexively she wiped his slobber away with the back of her wrist.

Carol took the young woman into her arms. River rested her head on Carol's shoulder as she stroked her hair. The gesture reminded her of her childhood and her own mother. It had been so long since she had had someone to be so tender with her. River sighed and relaxed, letting herself cry.

"What happened?" Carol gently asked asked again, giving River the space to talk when she was ready.

"Dixon is such a jerk!" River blurted out.

Carol's heart stopped for a second. Grabbing River securely by the shoulders, she pulled away just far enough that she could look the young woman in the eyes.

"Did he hurt you?" Carol asked earnestly.

"What?" River stared puzzled for a moment. "No."

Carol swallowed, searching her eyes. After all the years with Ed, lying to family and friends, Carol knew what to look for. She saw no indication that River was telling anything besides the truth.

"It's the end of the world," River explained. "I don't know what I was thinking. But I just... He was... I thought...," she sighed, trying to sort out exactly what it was she had thought.  _What, that her and Daryl would live happily ever after?_

After a long pause River said seemingly out of the blue, "I was engaged once, you know?"

"I didn't know that," Carol said, realizing she had no idea who this girl sitting on the floor with her had been before she'd shown up in their camp, riding in the back of that beast of a jeep.

"His name was Marcus. Marcus Anderson. He was a millwright up in Fort Nelson. Handsome, funny, into the outdoors," River reminisced. Carol had no idea where she was going with the story, but listened quietly.

"When we were dating, he planned this big surprise for me. He knew I spent the winter trapping with Dane and JJ, so he'd worked everything out around that. In the early fall we took this road trip. He'd rented this beautiful cabin for a week on the edge of Opatcho lake and hired a guide for this grizzly bear hunt. It was beautiful."

Carol smiled. "It sounds wonderful."

"We never did end up getting a bear," River admitted. "But on the last night at the cabin, we were sitting out on the dock, our fishing lines in the water. The sun setting in the distance. Everything these shades of red and gold, unlike anything I've ever seen. Then he just turns to me and asks me to marry him."

They sounded so perfect together. Carol wondered what had happened to Marcus and River.

"Of course, I said yes," River prattled on. "Then everything changed. He wanted me to stay at home, settle down, raise a family. It wasn't _appropriate_  for me to spend months out on the trapline with my friends. I didn't  _need_  to be hunting all of the time. Not that he didn't want to share that with me. But for him, hunting was a weekend sport. For me it had always been about survival, so just because we didn't need to do it to put food on the table, it was still a part of me and I did need to do it. If that makes any sense."

"It'd become a part of your identity and he wanted you to change who you were." It did make sense to Carol.

River nodded. "I couldn't make myself who he wanted. Not after all the years with Dane and JJ. If they can take me as I am, then he should be able to too, ya know? If you love someone, you love them as they are, not how you want them to be. It doesn't mean to say you always have to like who they are, but you always love them."

Carol swallowed hard, River's words hitting too close to home.

"I had given up," River admitted.

"Until you met Daryl," Carol added.

River nodded. "He's a total ass, but I like him. I thought he liked me too." There was something so innocent about her confession. It was the simple sort of problem people had before the world had ended, but that no one seemed to think about anymore. Everything was about survival now. River never really had seemed to have a grasp on the fact that things had changed.

Carol had seen the way Daryl watched River when he thought no one was looking. All the glances he stole of her. How whenever there was trouble his eyes searched to make sure she as alright.

"Hon trust me, he does." River wished that Carol was right.


	19. Gone

 

Jason stretched his arms above his head, yawning away the last remnants of sleep. Getting to sleep in was always a treat. One to be relished. Out on the trap line or in the bush hunting they were always up before the crack of dawn. In the winter sometimes that meant getting up at three in the morning to hike out to one of their blinds just to sit in the freezing cold for hours. So yes, they could do worse than sleeping in on a relatively comfortable cot in a temperature controlled building.

Once he was done yawning Jason scanned the room. Dane was sitting on the other cot. He was already dressed. How typical. Dane was always the earliest riser, getting up and starting breakfast just so Jason and River could sleep even an extra fifteen minutes. Speaking of River, she was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Liam.

"Looks like Tom got lucky," Jason commented, a silly grin spreading across his face.

"Looks like it," Dane agreed, although he wasn't as enthused by the idea as his younger brother. His smile was thin and tempered with worry. He was happy for River. Really. He was just afraid she'd end up getting her heart broken again. She tended to get swept away with her emotions and Daryl didn't seem the long-term, happy relationship kind of guy.

"Well, I'm gonna go see what's for breakfast," Jason said pulling a shirt over his head. "Damn it's nice to have clean clothes. I have to try and thank Carol." For Jason that was easier said than done. While he was starting to get comfortable with a couple of people in the group, most of them he still had a lot of trouble talking to.

The two brothers walked together down the hall. "You're feeling pretty good," Dane observed. They'd both been party to the drinking games the night before. It seemed neither had faired too poorly. The same couldn't be said for some of the others.

As they entered the dining area Dane offered everyone a "Good morning all." His alert enthusiasm to the day was met with a chorus of groans and complaints from those feeling less than stellar.

"Aww man, you are way too cheery for this early in the morning," T-Dog moaned.

"You mean for how hungover you are," Lori corrected.

T-Dog blew it off just saying, "Whatever."

"H-hi Glenn," Jason said, giving the other boy a friendly clap on the shoulder. Even though he still couldn't control his stutter the fact that he was even able to approach Glenn spoke volumes about how far he'd come since they'd joined the group.

Glenn groaned, bringing a hand up to his mouth. A wave of nausea threatening to turn his stomach. Drinking wasn't exactly something he'd had a ton of experience with prior to the Walker invasion. Glenn's reaction left Jason unsure of himself and doubting the appropriateness of the gesture. He withdrew, stammering an apology and turning away.

"Sorry JJ, just not feeling so great," Glenn apologized.

Jason nodded but wondered if he was just trying to be polite. It was entirely possible that he'd screwed up and offended him. Or maybe Glenn didn't even like him and didn't want to be friends. Or worse yet, maybe he couldn't stand him. Maybe he hated his guts and was just biding his time to make him look like an idiot. This was why he hated social interactions.

"You had a lot to drink last night. Don't worry about it," Dane said, excusing the Asian boy.

Glenn leaned on the back of a chair for support, willing his stomach to settle. "Thanks to you guys and your stupid game," he groaned.

"What game?" Lori asked, walking past them on her way to the table with a plate full of scrambled eggs. They were the kind made from powdered eggs, but no one seemed to care. Food was food. And any food was better than none.

Standing off to the side with his breakfast, Daryl muttered, "Gay ass shit," after T-Dog finished explaining the game to Lori. Glenn clearly wasn't up to the task given the condition he was in.

"Oh, hey Daryl. Didn't see you there," Dane commented. Sometimes it was easy enough to miss Daryl. He was never really part of the group. He hung out on the fringes, always watching and observing, but rarely participating. That he had joined in on their game the night before was amazing. Although River had left him little choice.

Daryl grunted and said nothing. Continuing to eat his meal he shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

"Have you, umm, seen River?" Dane asked awkwardly. Both him and his brother had assumed she was with Daryl. So, given that the redneck was here, the fact that she was not seemed a little odd.

"Nope." It was mostly true. He hadn't seen her since she'd stormed out in the middle of the night.

Dane and Jason both exchanged a worried look. If she wasn't with Daryl and she hadn't come back to their room, where was she? At least Liam must be with her, wherever she might be.

They didn't have to worry about her absence for long. About ten minutes later River entered the room, walking in with Carol and Sophia. Dane could tell right away that something was wrong. She wasn't her usual self.

While Jason made every effort to go and thank Carol for washing up his laundry, River and Daryl made every effort to avoid looking at each other. River filled two plates up with some eggs. One for her and one for Liam. All she did was stare at hers. She found that her appetite had vanished completely. At least with Liam around food would never go to waste.

"Looks like you're getting seconds, bud," River whispered to her dog, sliding him the second plate under the table.

Shane chuckled. "Looks like someone hit the bottle a little too hard again." It had nothing to do with her hangover, but River just nodded and went along with it.

"More than one," Dane laughed, looking around the room. Himself not excluded. Although he wasn't in half as bad of shape as some.

After moping through breakfast River got up and left the table without a word. Liam followed faithfully by her side as she left the room. Enough was enough. Concerned about his friend, Dane got up and went after her.

"Tom, wait up," he called down the hallway at her. River stopped in her tracks but did not turn to face to him.

"What?"

Dane caught hold of her arm and gently spun her towards him. "What's wrong? What happened with you and Dixon last night?" There was nothing else that it could be. He knew her.

"Forget Dixon," River grumbled, willing herself to do exactly that. There was just something about him though that wouldn't let her. She needed to get as far away from the rough-around-the-edges redneck hunter as she possibly could.

Dane frowned. "Tom... Come on, it's me, you can talk to me."

It was true. Dane had been the first person she'd called, hell the only person she'd called, when she ended the engagement with Marcus. If there was any certainty in the universe it was that she could talk to him. She might not always like what he had to say, and she might have to call him on being a jerk from time to time, but there wasn't anything she couldn't tell him.

"I don't know what happened," River admitted. "We were both really drunk, and I don't remember."

"That's not why you're upset though. Why'd you walk in this morning with the old lady instead of Dixon."

"Her name's Carol and she's not that old. For the love of God, Dane, we've been with these people for how long now?"

"Tom, forget I said it, okay. For Christ's sake," Dane hadn't meant to be offensive. "Now stop trying to avoid my question and tell me what's got you all upset."

River let out an exaggerated sigh. "We woke up in the middle of the night, and he tells me to get out. At first I thought he was just being, well, you know the way Dixon is." She bit her lip, tears welling in her big green eyes. "But he meant it Dane. I was wrong. Whatever I thought was there, it was all in my head."

"If it's any consolation, it wasn't just you. Word around the whole camp has been you two."

Instead of soothing her, Dane's words made her burst into tears. Taking on his big brother role he pulled her into his arms letting her bury her face in his chest.

"You want me to kick his ass for you?" Dane asked causing River to choke on a laugh between her tears. "I'm serious," Dane insisted.

"This is Dixon we're talking about," River said into his shirt. "No offense Dane, but you'd get your ass stomped."

"Since when does that matter?" Dane responded, his arms wrapped tightly around her. "Just give me the word."

"Look at you two little lovebirds," a voice cooed from down the hall. It was Dale. Apparently he hadn't got the memo that River and Dane were not an item. While everyone else had been settling in the night before he'd been sitting up with Andrea trying to convince her that life was worth living.

Seeing River's puffy eyes and wet cheeks, Dale looked mortified. His expression quickly turned to one of concern. "Everything alright? Is there anything I can do?"

"Everything's fine Dale, thank you," Dane assured him. Except that everything wasn't fine, as they were all soon enough to find out.

* * *

Once everyone had finished with breakfast it was question and answer time with Dr. Edwin Jenner. The group of survivors got a crash course in much of what he knew about the disease, complete with visual aids and everything.

"So much for it being like rabies," Rick said dryly to Dane. This was so different, so far from anything any of them could understand. Trying to draw comparisons was futile. Wildfire was it's own beast.

"There has to be someone, somewhere," Andrea was insisting, desperate for some shred of hope in a world where there seemed to be none. She was trying to hold on, for Dale, but circumstance was making that a very difficult thing to accomplish. With every word that Jenner spoke she found her grasp on life slipping further.

"What a... Wh-what about up in C-c-Canada?" Jason asked. While he was starting to settle in with these people at some point he knew he would want to go home. They all would. Jenner shook his head, leaving Jason disappointed.

Dane wasn't as quick to give up. "There's less people up there," he insisted. "This shit shouldn't have been able to spread as fast."

"There may be pockets of survivors, like you," Jenner said gesturing to the group. Although, his words lacked any conviction. "Especially in the more remote rural areas. But we lost all contact over a month ago. They are no better off up there." Seeing the pained expression on their faces he added, "If you have family up there, I am truly sorry."

"There are other facilities, though," Jacqui pushed. There had to be. Somewhere there had to be someone working on a cure, getting close.

"There might be. People like me," Jenner offered.

Rick took a step forward. "How can you not know?" he demanded. They'd come here for answers, for hope. All they were finding was more questions. What answers they did get only served to strip away whatever faith and hope they'd had left.

"I've been in the dark for almost a month," Jenner admitted.

"So, there's nothing left anywhere? That's what you're really saying," Andrea said, the defeat in her voice obvious. She'd lost any reason she had to live. If this was all there was to life anymore, then there was no point to it. Not if there wasn't any hope.

Dale was the one who noticed the clock on the wall counting down. That left one more question for Dr. Jenner. "What happens when it reaches zero?" the observant old man asked him.

"The basement generators run out of fuel," Jenner told them, turning and walking away. It was Vi, the artificial computer intelligence, that clarified for them at Rick's request. When that happened, there would be a system wide decontamination.

Things went downhill from there. As the fuel reserve fast approached empty the computer started prioritizing energy usage. As lights and air were cut panic started to set in. Jenner was bombarded by questions from the frantic crowd. No one understood what was happening. Not until it appeared to be too late.

By the time they realized that system wide decontamination meant that they we all going to die, Jenner had locked them in. So much for a cure. So much for hope and safety. Their supposed haven was about to become their tomb.

Not everyone was willing to accept that fate. Shane, Rick, and Daryl were joined by the Jackson brothers and River trying to break down the door.

"It's better this way," Jenner insisted. "It's easier."

"Easier for who?" Lori spat, clutching Carl close to her.

"You know what's waiting for you out there," Jenner insisted. "A short, brutal life and an agonizing death."

The door wasn't budging. They could beat on it all day and it wouldn't budge. Not that they had all day. They had about twenty minutes.

River made her way back. "It's not for you to decide," she told Jenner. "Life doesn't end just 'cause bad shit happens." Maybe calling the Wildfire outbreak  _bad shit happening_  was a massive understatement. Although, maybe not. "I know I sure as hell would rather be out there, with those things, living my life."

Jenner couldn't understand why anyone would want to go on out there. He turned to Rick who had also given up with the door. "You've seen what this does. Do you really want that for your wife and child?"

"I don't want this!" Rick exclaimed angrily at the thought of them being burned alive in some system wide decontamination meant to spare the world the potential release of nasty diseases such as weaponized small pox.

"But you do!" Jenner countered. "You said so yourself, last night. You said that you knew it was only a matter of time before everyone you loved was dead."

More of the guys trickled back from the door. "Hate to break it to ya doc," Dane said, wiping sweat away from his forehead and panting from the exertion of trying to hack down the steel door. "Everybody dies."

"It doesn't mean you just give up on living," River added.

Dane pushed further. "Think about where you were a year ago. Long before any of this began," he instructed the doctor. "You were still going to die eventually, you must have known that. Everyone you loved was still going to die some day. For all you knew it could have been tomorrow. But you didn't just give up on life. The thought probably never even crossed your mind. This isn't any different. You keep on keeping on. You keep on living."

"There is no hope!" Jenner said, frustrated that the message wasn't getting through to these people. "There never was."

"There is always hope," Rick insisted.

Andrea sat on the floor, disbelief crossing her face. "What part of everything's gone don't you get?"

"We still have each other," Dale offered.

"This is what takes us down," Jenner explained. "This is our extinction event." His assert action was met at first with no opposition. Just sad silence and tears.

* * *

Eventually though, they convinced him and he opened the doors. With four minutes to spare, and one shot at the outside walls with Rick's grenade they ran for their lives. Most of them. Jacqui understood what Jenner was saying. So did Andrea. Not Dale, but he stayed behind to force Andrea's hand, and when the two ran out of the CDC together she was not happy about it.

With the system wide decontamination imminent everyone bailed into vehicles and took off. They could regroup a little further down the road and figure out what their next move would be. Like Dane had said, you keep on keeping on. That's exactly what the survivors were going to do.

"I want to go home," River said when they reconvened a couple of miles from the CDC.

"What?" Dane looked surprised. "What about Fort Benning?"

River shook her head. Enough of this madness. Enough of the drama. Back home life could go on as if nothing had happened. They'd hunt. They'd trap. They'd laugh and joke and share their lives out in the woods like it seemed they always had.  _To hell with the rest of the world._

"I'm ready to go home," River repeated, but her words were detached and her eyes were elsewhere. She wasn't looking at Dane. Off in the distance she was staring after Daryl Dixon.

To Dane's surprise Jason agreed. "Okay," he said. Jason had just been starting to make friends here, but his friendship with River came first. If she wanted to go home, then they would go home.

"I'll go let them know," Dane offered. "JJ, can you help me grab some of this water and one of the Jerry cans?" It was as much about making room for River and Liam as it was about not leaving the others empty handed.

"Sure."

"What do you mean you're not staying?" Rick asked in response to the unexpected news.

"Where will you go?" Carol asked fearful for the three of them traveling on their own.

Dane glanced back at the jeep. "Home," he said. "We're going home."

"You sure we can't convince you to stay?" Rick pleaded. There was safety in numbers, but Dane shook his head.

"Well, good luck out there," Shane said, nodding to the young man. "If you change your mind, you know where we'll be headed."

"Thanks. I hope you find what you're looking for," Dane told him.

* * *

As everyone else said goodbye to their Canadian friends, Daryl stood off to the side, leaning against his blue and white pickup truck. He nodded to Dane and Jason, but that was so far as it went. He said nothing to River and she said nothing to him. Jason took the drivers seat and the trio roared off in the big pumpkin orange jeep. Daryl squinted, watching as they faded off into the distance.

"What did you say to her?" Carol asked, approaching the solitary redneck.

 

Daryl spat on the ground. "Ain't none of yer business ol' lady."

Carol wasn't deterred by his brash attitude. "She cared about you, you know?"

"An' wha' makes ya think I give a shit?"

"The way you're watching her leave."

"Whatever," Daryl mumbled. "Never was gonna work anyhow."

"You don't know that."

Daryl scoffed at Carol and kicked the asphalt beneath his feet. "Wha' jus' 'cause it's the end o' th' world an' there ain't anyone else left?"

"Oh Daryl, you're wrong," Carol said sadly. After she had found River sobbing in the hallway the two women had talked for hours. River had spilled her soul. "End of the world or not. That girl would have fallen in love with you anyways."

Daryl swallowed trying to keep his emotions from Carol. Staring down the road there was no longer any sign of the jeep. They were gone. River was gone.

 


	20. The Reunion

 

The CDC, their one beacon of hope was no more. Having run out of fuel the facility had gone through a system wide decontamination, which essentially stood for self destruct. The group of survivors was lucky to escape with their lives. Having been pushed away by Daryl, River had decided that she wanted to go home. The Jackson brothers agreed and the three Canadians parted ways with their American friends.

Tom Petty's voice blared from the radio, drowning out Jason and Dane's own voices as they sang along.

"Well I know what's right... I got just one life..."

They belted the words out completely out of key, but they were laughing and smiling and having a good time. It was refreshing to be on the road again. To be heading home to the boreal forests, the snow capped mountains, and the winding waters of the Muskwa River where they spent many of their days hunting and fishing.

In the back of the jeep River sat leaning against the wheel well, Liam's head in her lap. She was uncharacteristically quiet and still. She didn't sing along, she wasn't chattering on about hunting and trapping plans for later in the year. She didn't stand and stretch out to the sun, enjoying the feel of the breeze whipping at her skin. All she did was sit there, silently watching the landscape pass by.

Dane chewed anxiously at his lower lip, disturbed by her behavior. "JJ tells me you were thinking of going on an alpine hunt this fall to try for a goat or a sheep," he said, in an attempt to at least get her talking.

River nodded, staring absently out the window.

"I think it's a good idea," Dane went on having failed so far to engage her. "It's not like there's going to be any market for furs with this outbreak, so we only need to trap enough for food for ourselves. Besides, it's been too long since we've gone on a big hunt together."

Still River said nothing. Her face was blank as she watched the scenery outside.

"Tom, come on, say something," Dane pleaded.

Frustrated by her dejected behavior Jason slammed on the breaks, sending River and Liam sliding into the back of the front seats.

"The hell JJ?" River shouted finally coming out of her trance.

"Look Tom, if you want to go back, just say so," Jason demanded bluntly.

"I don't," River grumbled.

"Really? You could have fooled me."

Dane stared in shock. It wasn't often he saw his little brother get pissed off and have an outburst like this. He knew Jason had wanted to stay, but had left for River. Those people were becoming his friends and it was a loss to leave them. Jason didn't make friends easily because of his anxiety disorder.

Whatever his motivation might be, Jason's bitter outburst had hit the nail on the head. No matter what was coming out of her mouth, River was still falling for that redneck Daryl Dixon.

"We can still turn around and go back," Dane offered in a more peaceful tone. "One life, Tom," he said, echoing the words from the speakers. "Give it another try with Daryl."

River thought back to how unsupportive Dane had been when they were looking for Merle in Atlanta. When he'd realized that she had a thing for the younger Dixon brother he'd not approved. Now that they were on their way home he was having a change of heart. She wanted to know why.

"What made you change your mind about him?"

"You two are good together."

"We argue like cat and dog," River objected.

"So what?" Dane shrugged it off. "So do you and I, but you're still my best friend."

"Yeah, you can be a jerk," River teased.

"Besides, what would you do if we went home?"

"We'd do what we've always done," she answered simply.

"And?"

"And what? And nothing. Life goes on."

"You, me and JJ until the end of time?" Dane raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes. why not?"

"You have a chance at something more here," Dane told her. He hadn't seen River genuinely interested in another guy since breaking off the engagement with Marcus. "We all do," he added, thinking of his younger brother. It would do Jason good to have some friends besides him and River. "If it doesn't work out home will always be there for us."

"What if the waterlines freeze in the winter because we're not there to shut things down properly?" River asked. "What if the pump to the well seizes up from disuse?"

"Then we fix them when we go back. We make do like we always have." Dane's voice was full of calm certainty.

"What if..."

"Tom, stop it. Do you want to go back and try and make things work or not? You may never meet another Daryl again. God knows you may never have met another Daryl before the world went to shit."

"Your call Tom," Jason chimed in. "Tell me which way to go. Are we keeping on to the border, or are we pulling a U-turn and going back?"

* * *

Daryl was heading up the caravan in his blue and white pickup truck. His left arm hung out the open window. There was a nice cool breeze blowing in as he rolled down the highway.

Normally he didn't mind being on the road. The quietness of it: just the rumble of the engine and the wind whipping by. Now though, Carol's words haunted him.  _That girl would have fallen in love with you anyways_. He tried to shrug it off, to dismiss her. What did she know, anyhow?

Still, he watched the horizon. For Walkers, yes, but also for a big orange jeep. They'd be miles gone by now, well on their way to the northern border. That didn't stop him from looking anyways.

_You don't need her. You're better off without her._  Daryl set his jaw. It was true. He was a Dixon after all, and Dixons did just fine on their own. River was cute, she was different than most the girls he ran into, but she was also an annoying pain in the ass. Not that it mattered, River was gone. And that was for the best.

Then he spotted it. A speck of orange at first, growing larger as it flew down the highway towards them. Jason must have had the pedal to the floor.

"Damn," Daryl muttered to himself resolving to keep his distance from the girl. Part of him, though, dared to be happy. Even if only for a moment.

Jason leaned on the horn, honking twice the agreed upon signal to stop the caravan. Spirits had perked up in the orange jeep since they'd pulled U-turn on the highway and started back towards the group. Now the three of them were positively all smiles. Even River who had been pouty and miserable the entire rest of the round trip.

Rick stepped out of the RV, a wide smile spread across his face. The others too trickled out of their vehicles after him. Everyone except for Daryl.

"You decided to come back," Rick noted, making no effort to disguise his excitement. There was strength in numbers, and he couldn't deny that the three of them had some useful skills. More so than that though, was that he liked them. Him and Dane in particular got along very well.

"Good to see you, man," Shane said, clasping hands with Dane. Jason fidgeted nervously in the background. "You too, JJ." Shane tipped his head toward the boy.

Jason smiled and nodded, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. "Glad t-t-to be back."

Carol looked past the guys at River, who was sitting in the back of the jeep scanning the crowd. The young woman's smile had faded when she saw that Daryl hadn't joined the reunion party.

"Don't worry, hon, he'll come around," Carol assured her once she'd made her way over to the jeep.

"That jackass better," River snorted. "I could be home hunting moose." She'd always had a special place in her heart for moose. It wasn't an overly challenging hunt, but they had a lot of meat. One of those big goofy animals could keep her freezer full most of the year when times were tough.

"Why don't you go to him?" Carol suggested, knowing Daryl wouldn't be the one to admit he was wrong. That'd be like admitting failure or weakness. Dixons didn't allow weakness. He'd never let it show.

River hopped out of the back of the jeep. Liam was at her heel. He was used to reading her body language. Words were kept to a minimum when they were out hunting and he'd learned to be very observant and pick up on all her unspoken cues.

River marched straight to the head of the caravan where Daryl was parked. When she opened the passenger side door Liam hopped in ahead of her. River jumped in and closed the door.

"Ya ever think of askin' first?" Daryl snorted distastefully.

"How about a hello?"

"Whateve'."

"Besides, if I asked you'd prolly just say no," River said sheepishly.

"Yeah? Tha' tell ya sumthin'?" Daryl snarled at her.

"That you're a jerk who can't just admit that he likes me?" River retorted, turning to him and raising an eyebrow.

Daryl fumed. "Git outta mah truck," he ordered her his voice boiling over.

"Nah. Don't think I will." River drawled back in a mock southern accent.

Daryl's face contorted with frustration and anger. He swung his door open so hard he almost ripped it off the hinges. Deliberately he made his way around to the other side of the truck and opened the door. Without a word he grabbed River around the waist and hauled her out, plunking her down on the hot asphalt.

Liam stared at him curiously from between the two seats. His head was cocked to the side, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Git out," Daryl growled at him.

Liam didn't budge. Instead the dog watched Daryl and River for a moment longer. With no cues from his master he laid down and rested his head on his large paws and waited.

Daryl growled at him again with no better luck. Uttering a string of curses he turned to River. "Call yer damn mutt," he demanded.

River shook her head defiantly, still sitting on the asphalt where he'd left her. The girl made no move to get up.

"Fine. Have it yer way," Daryl said, slamming the door to the truck. It was all too reminiscent of their first encounter out in the bush. There was no way he was letting her drag him into these games of hers again, so he walked back around the other side, got in, and drove off.

Liam turned his head and looked at the man, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

River waved the rest of the caravan by. The Jackson brother's big orange jeep was bringing up the rear. Jason rolled it to a stop next to where River was sitting.

"Where's Liam?" Dane asked her.

"With Dixon."

"Hop in," Jason offered.

River grabbed the roll bar and hauled herself into the back of the jeep.

"How long do you figure, Tom?" Dane asked.

River grinned. "Not long at all."

Liam started as soon as River disappeared from sight out the back window. The dog whined, he howled, he whimpered. He made such a fuss that anyone who didn't know any better would have thought that Daryl was beating the dog inside the cab.

"Shut it, mutt," Daryl snarled at the dog.

Daryl didn't know what to do. Liam wouldn't stop. The dog had never done this back at camp when River had left him. Liam was always happy to go play with the kids or hang out by the fire with Jason.

"What, is it 'cause I left 'er?" Daryl asked.

Road trips, to Liam, meant River, Dane or Jason without any exception. Not that the dog could understand or answer him. Liam continued his chorus of agonized vocalizations without pause.

"Yer givin' me a headache," Daryl said, pulling the truck over to the side of the road. Daryl got out of the pickup and stormed back to the jeep where River was sitting, trying to look innocent.

"Thanks Daryl. I'd love to come ride with you," River said exuberantly before the redneck was able to open his mouth.

Daryl glared at her. "That wasn't what I's about t' say."

"Well, it's what I heard," River said hopping out of the jeep.

As he held back his anger, Daryl's face contorted. "Will it shut up yer mutt?" he asked in a very controlled voice.

River smiled and hopped into the truck. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said in mock innocence.

Daryl got in and slammed his door. He watched as Liam gave River a big sloppy kiss on her cheek then settled down, quiet as could be. Taking a deep breath he pulled the truck off the side of the road and continued driving down the highway.

The air was thick with the silence between them as Daryl drove. His eyes were dark with anger as he stared out the windshield, scanning the horizon for Walkers.

"I like you, Daryl," River blurted out, tired of the awkwardness between them.

"So?"

"I think you like me too."

"Nope."

"You're a terrible liar."

Daryl barely heard her last sentence. Something up ahead and off to the right had caught his attention. Cautiously he slowed the truck as he peered out.

River followed his gaze. There was an exit to the highway coming up. In a distance she could see some buildings. One of them was a very large building with a sign that read IKEA. They'd just finished construction on an IKEA up in Fort Nelson before her and the Jackson brothers had headed to Georgia for the Trappers Convention. She hadn't had a chance to get in and check it out yet. They sold furniture or something, if she could recall what people had said.

Then she spotted it too. It wasn't the building Daryl was so focused on, it was the sign hanging from the rooftop. "Help: Uninfected Inside." Could it be that there were still survivors in there?


	21. Help

 

After reuniting with the trio of Canadians the group of survivors from the quarry camp continued on the highway away from the former CDC. A sign on an IKEA store just off the highway was spotted that read "Help: Uninfected Inside." Once again the caravan stopped while the group discussed how to proceed from there.

"That place could be crawling with Walkers," Shane protested. "We don't know how long ago that sign was put there."

"Not tha' long," Daryl observed. "Edges ain't frayed yet." The hunter picked up little clues with ease.

Carol clutched Sophia close to her, "If there's people in there we can't just leave them."

"Carol's right," Rick agreed. "The living have to help each other now."

Dale nodded thoughtfully. "It's what separates us from those monsters."

"You mean aside from the fact that we're not cannibals and we haven't died once already," Shane pointed out.

"That too."

Realizing that the battle was already lost and they we going in there whether he liked it or not Shane added, "At least we can pick up some supplies while we're here." If they we're going to risk their necks, they better be getting something out of it.

"We should split into teams," Glenn suggested. "If each team has a purpose, either looking for survivors or gathering certain supplies, we'll be more efficient and cover all our bases."

Rick looked at the young Asian man approvingly. "Good thinking, Glenn."

"Me, Shane, and Daryl will sweep for any survivors," Rick volunteered.

"I'll look for medical supplies," Glenn offered.

"Does someone want to go with Glenn?" Rick asked.

"No offense, but I can move faster on my own."

Rick frowned. Going alone was dangerous. However there was little he could do about it. He knew Glenn was right and trusted the kid's judgement. After all, he did owe him his life.

"T-Dog and I will look for food," Lori suggested. "They always had small food courts in these places."

T-Dog grinned approvingly. "Hell yeah. Now that's what I'm talking about."

Afraid to let Andrea out of his sight after her near suicide at the CDC Dale offered, "I'll team up with Andrea."

"I'm not going," Andrea responded flatly.

Dale's face went slack and he looked helplessly at the woman. "What do you mean?"

Andrea scowled back at the old man who had forced her hand and said nothing.

"Fine then," Dale gave in, "I'll stay here and keep a lookout."

"The kids can stay with Dale and Andrea," Rick said looking at Carl and Sophia. "If there's any trouble Dale, you just get in the RV and you go. You get them to safety."

"Sweetie, you listen to whatever Dale says," Lori instructed, hugging her son tightly. "Your dad and I will be back soon."

Sophia clung tightly to her mother. "Momma, I don't want you to go," she pleaded.

Carol bent down and kissed the top of Sophia's head. "Momma's not going anywhere," she assured her frightened daughter. Turning to Rick she added, "I'm going to stay with Dale and Andrea. I can help watch the kids."

"Okay." Rick nodded then turned to the rest of the group that would be going into the store. "We all meet back here," he instructed. They were in a large empty parking lot outside of the building. Not a Walker in sight anywhere.

"Remember, look for food, medical supplies, weapons, anything we can use," Shane reminded them.

Shane's words were apparently lost on some. Jason grinned at Dane. It was about time they hit a store. If he had to spend another second listening to Tom Petty he might just lose his mind. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for ever since they left the quarry.

With a chuckle Dane motioned for his younger brother, "Yeah I know what you're thinking. C'mon."

Before they left Jason turned to River, "Tom?"

"Go ahead without me," River told them. "I got Liam." She was probably safer with Liam than anyone. The canine had a superb sense of smell and hearing.

Daryl, Rick, Shane and T-Dog stalked towards the front doors, crossbow and firearms at the ready incase any nasty surprises were waiting for them inside. The front doors were clear. No Walkers. Everything was still. They motioned for others to move up. From there they would split into their groups and get to work.

* * *

"Holy hell Liam, look at this place."

River stared in awe. In her whole life she'd never been in a store anywhere near the size of this one. It was massive and filled with all sorts of stuff. Not just furniture, but also knick knacks, tableware, toys, just about any sort of junk you could imagine. When it came down to it very little of what was in that store would help them survive in the world they found themselves in.

That didn't matter to River as she studied the floor plan of the store. On the main floor they had sections for all of their junk, but upstairs... Upstairs they had sections done up as show rooms for every conceivable room in a house. Not just one kitchen, but a whole section of kitchens. All sorts of bathrooms. The entire north wall was all bedrooms. This she had to see.

Excitedly River wound her way through the kitchens and bathrooms admiring the various setups. Things were mostly still in tact. She found it fascinating all of the stuff that went with a bathroom. River picked various items up and examined them, smelling any of the scented items before replacing them on the shelves.

Fuzzy seat covers, mats of all shapes and sizes, toothbrush holders made to look like seashells, cottages or kittens. There were shower curtains with all sorts of patterns and designs, fluffy rolled cloths, stacking baskets for towels and other storage. Shelving units housed fancy glass jars with incense and oils, scented bath soaps shaped like flowers and fruits, and candles that smelled of cinnamon or vanilla. So much useless junk.

Back home River lived too far from Fort Nelson to be on the city's water and sewer lines. Most of the time she used the outhouse. A four foot by four foot wooden structure complete with a bench, an old plastic toilet seat and a LED lamp powered by a small solar panel attached to the tin roof. On cold winter nights River had a small composting toilet inside so she wouldn't have to brave the negative forty degree Celsius or below weather. Stepping into a night like that would freeze the moisture on your skin almost instantly. Getting bundled up to go out trapping was one thing, getting bundled up to walk twenty yards to the outhouse was another.

Gleefully she left the bathrooms and pushed onwards to check the bedrooms, Liam at her side. In her travels she'd covered nearly half of the upstairs section already. If there were people alive in here, she didn't know where they were. Surely they must have seen or heard her by now. Maybe they were downstairs. It was possible that Rick's search party had found them and they were down there getting to know each other.

* * *

Downstairs Rick and Shane worked section by section. Always on the lookout for Walkers, although so far the place appeared to be clean. Too clean. If there wasn't anyone here, there probably had been and they likely weren't dead when they left.

"Hello!" Rick called out as they moved to a new section. "Is there anyone here? My name is Rick. Rick Grimes, we saw your sign. Hello?"

Only the silence answered him. Section after section went essentially the same.

"Man, there ain't nobody here," Shane finally snapped as they neared the halfway mark.

"You don't know that," Rick insisted. "Maybe they don't hear us."

"Oh they hear us. The way you're hollering, if anyone's here, they hear us."

"It's a big store. Maybe they're upstairs."

"Great, then we just sent our resident redneck douchebag as our welcoming committee," Shane commented with disgust.

"Daryl will behave," Rick said without conviction.

"Since when does Daryl ever behave?"

Shane had a point. Rick hoped that they would find the survivors, if there we any here, before Dixon did.

* * *

Dane stopped at a bin off to the side of an aisle. It was filled with an assortment of stuffed animals. He picked through them finding a happy looking stuffed bear. It was brown and made out of the silkiest, softest material he'd ever laid hands on. Aside from real fur, anyways. He had seen the old raggedy doll that Sophia packed around with her and hoped she might like it.

Opening his pack Dane added the stuffed bear to his growing collection. He already had a soccer ball for Carl. Other items in the pack included a couple decks of cards, a Janga game, dice, two small plastic water pistols, and a chess board. He'd also picked up some tools. No doubt meant for constructing the do-it-yourself furniture, but Dane hoped they might be able to make do to fix the traps that the Walkers had mangled when they were back at the quarry camp.

None of it was stuff that would technically help them survive. But he'd spent enough time cut off from the world on the trapline with Jason and River to know that keeping your sanity was just as important. How many winter nights, when the sun went down by 4:30pm, had they spent sitting in a ten by ten cabin passing the time eating a good meal and playing cards? In a confined space with nothing to do people, especially kids, went stir crazy very quickly.

Nearby Jason sifted through the limited selection of CDs. Back home he had a massive collection of music. Unlike the rest of his generation he'd never made the move to digital recordings and iPods. They were a bit behind the times up north. Since the Wildfire outbreak all he had was  _Tom Petty's Greatest Hits,_ until now _._

To save on space he found one of the cloth CD cases and started filling it up. Credence Clearwater Revival, Johnny Cash, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, R.E.M. and The Rolling Stones all made their way into his new collection. There were also mixed CDs with bands he'd never heard of. He grabbed them anyways and stuffed them into the case. This could very well be the soundtrack for the rest of his life and Jason didn't want to limit himself to listening to the same handful of songs for eternity.

While the Jackson brothers gathered seemingly useless items, Glenn wasted no time in finding the first aid station on the main floor. It was quickly apparent that it had already been picked through. Whether by the people the sign outside claimed were living in here or by looters he couldn't be sure. Still, there were some bandages, gauze and butterfly sutures as well as some packets of iodine wipes. All of which went into his backpack. It was better than nothing.

* * *

Daryl stalked silently up the stairs. As he watched for any Walkers or survivors his hunter instincts took over. All of his senses were on high alert for any sign of movement. Everything was still.

That didn't mean that there wasn't anyone here. Most definitely there were people here. The place was clean. No way had it been empty when the Wildfire outbreak had hit. No way had no Walkers roamed here in search of food. There weren't even any Walker corpses littering the ground, although here and there there was blood splatter where the living had been attacked, or the black stains where Walker guts had been spilled. Someone had cleaned up.

Little things were missing or moved, providing better line of site or barricades. This place hadn't been clear whenever the people who had put up the sign had arrived. No they had a home base somewhere here and over time they had cleaned the place out one Walker at a time. Gaining ground until they had the whole place to themselves.

Cautiously Daryl moved from the top of the stairs to the food court. It was as still and empty as everywhere else. He motioned that it was okay for Lori and T-Dog.

At the top of the stairs T-Dog and Lori had found the food court. Before the world had ended shoppers would walk the circuit upstairs looking at all the showrooms and then stop for a bite to eat before going back downstairs to buy all of their stuff. Now it was deserted, although strangely neat. There were no overturned stools, no remnants of the spoiled food left in the heater trays. Everything about the building seemed immaculate, yet still to their untrained eyes there was no sign of the people supposedly living here.

"Please let there be something left," T-Dog said quietly to himself, allowing his hopes to get up at the prospect of finding food.

"Anything," Lori agreed thinking of her son.

Before they'd found the CDC she'd watched Carl go hungry night after night. What little food the group had had was never enough and everyone would go to bed without their bellies being full. That gnawing hunger had become a constant in their lives. When they made it to the CDC and Jenner had brought them out that first meal she'd seen Carl's face light up. That was the first time since they'd left that he'd fallen asleep satisfied. It pained her to think that she would again be unable to feed her son.

T-Dog rummaged through the cupboards. His face went slack with disappointment and he let out a heavy sigh.

"There's nothing left?" Lori asked, the pitch of her voice going up with desperation.

"Not much," T-Dog frowned. "A couple of cans of diced tomatoes, some pancake mix, and one package of dried kidney beans."

They packed what little they'd found away. As time went on it seemed they were finding less and less as supplies diminished and the places they encountered we're already picked over by other looters. They had to take whatever they could get because at the next place they stopped they might find nothing.

* * *

River skipped into the second model bedroom. The bed was covered in a thick down comforter and eight pillows of assorted colors and sizes. It looked like it could swallow a person whole. Deciding to test that theory, she placed her rifle to the side and belly-flopped onto the bed, becoming enveloped in the soft cushiony goodness. It was wonderful after sleeping for so long on a thin mat on the ground.

Patting the bed next to her River invited her dog up. Liam climbed up, wagging his tail excitedly. He flopped down next to River and leaned up against his master. She threw one arm over his shoulder and snuggled her head into a pillow. They hadn't seen a single Walker inside the building. She could sleep there, she thought drowsily, having gotten little sleep the night before. Just for a little bit.

"What do you say Liam, time to take a nap?"

The dog perked up his ears, alert. River mistook it as a response to her question. Liam would often move his ears and tilt his head back and forth listening to her talk, waiting patiently for a word he understood. By the time she caught on, he had his head turned and was letting out a low growl. Something was wrong.

River rolled and reached for her rifle as she quickly scanned the area. She saw it right away. Something, someone rushing towards her. The dead didn't move like that.

"It's okay Liam, it's not a Walker," River said soothingly to the dog, who now had his hackles up, growling louder.

Then the hair went up on the back of River's neck and she knew that she should have listened to her canine companion. Too late. Something hard struck her in the face and all her senses went blurry. There was a big commotion. Yelling. Growling. River squeezed her eyes shut, a throbbing pain pulsating behind them, and willed her body and mind to focus.

"Get this fucking mutt off me," one of the voices hollered.

River opened her eyes. Liam had his teeth sunk into the leg of a large burly man with a thick, black beard. He was scruffy, probably long overdue for a shave and haircut before the Wildfire outbreak. Certainly he hadn't had one since. He looked out of place in his military fatigues. Probably had stolen them from a dead soldier, as he definitely did not look the part.

There were two other men, both with military style cropped hair and clean shaven. Neither as broad as the scruffy man, but both solidly built. Their choice of dress fit them, unlike their counterpart. For all River knew, they could have been military. The man standing over her, likely the one that had hit her in the face had hazel eyes, like Dane's. The other, she noticed had a sleeve of tattoos all down his right arm.

The tattooed man booted Liam, who let out a whimper as the man's foot connected with his shoulder sending him flying. The scruffy one then grabbed River's rifle and pointed it at the dog who was hunkered down, teeth bared ready to leap at him.

"Liam, go find Dane," River ordered. The dog ignored her, all his focus on the man in front of him fumbling with the rifle. He hadn't yet figured out that the safety was on, causing it not to fire. At least she was right that he wasn't military. Yelling this time to get the dog's attention River repeated sternly, "Liam, go find Dane." At the last second the dog turned and bounded down the aisle.

Hazel Eyes hit River in the face again to shut her up. "Don't let that mutt get away," he ordered he ordered the other man.

"I'm trying," Scruffy insisted.

Taking the rifle from Scruffy and taking the safety off Tattoo leveled it at Liam and pulled the trigger. River's heart stopped and time seemed to hold still for a moment. Then she saw a chunk of the post chip off above Liam's shoulder. The shot was high. Tattoo didn't get a second shot, the dog was gone.

Furiously Tattoo turned to River who was trying to get herself up despite the blinding pain throbbing in her head. Grabbing her roughly around the throat and slamming her back down into the bed he demanded, "How many in your group?"

As oxygen was deprived from her brain River lost her peripheral vision giving her an odd sense of tunnel vision. She choked and sputtered in his grasp, trying to get some air.

"Dude, I don't think she can talk with your hand around her throat," Scruffy pointed out nervously.

"Since when do you get to think?" Tattoo said sharply. "Keep watch, make sure no one's coming." Scruffy did as he was told.

"She's obviously not alone," Hazel Eye's noted. "Whoever this Dane person is, we should expect he'll come looking for her. There may be others."

"You're right, let's move," Tattoo agreed. There was an obvious pecking order here with Scruffy at the bottom and Tattoo at the top. He let go of her throat and grabbed her by her braids to drag her with them.

As soon as she had air in her lungs again River screamed for help. This time it was Tattoo that hit her. The force of his backhand was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Fear took over. Fight or flight. Not that flight was much of an option at the moment, but River would have fought anyways.

River kicked backwards at Tattoo's shin, the only thing in reach of her legs. She clawed at his hands, trying to free herself from his grasp. The angle she was at though she had no strength behind her. Twisting herself she tried to gain some ground, to get into a position where she had better body mechanics. It was futile.

Placing the sharp blade of a knife against her throat Tattoo warned her, "You're going to shut up and walk nicely, or I'll gut you alive. You feel me?"

River swallowed reflexively causing the sharp blade to bite into her skin. A small trickle of blood ran down her neck. "Yeah," she practically whispered.

"Good."


	22. Closure

 

Help:  _Uninfected Inside_. The sign hanging from the roof of the IKEA had drawn the group of survivors in. If there was any chance that there were others out there, they had to do what they could to find them. In this world of the dead the living had to band together. However, while everyone split up to search the store River was taken prisoner. Her only hope was Liam. She had sent him to go find Dane. It was an act of desperation to save both her life and that of her dog, as well as to warn the others that the people here were not looking to make friends.

"That was a gunshot," Lori exclaimed, worry furrowing her brow.

"Probably just someone shooting a Walker," T-Dog reassured her. He was more interested in continuing to search for food. The cupboards in Dale's Winnebago were essentially empty.

Lori remained tense. "Why just one shot then? Why risk drawing more of those things for just one Walker?"

"How in the hell should I know?" T-Dog said, slamming yet another empty, disappointing cupboard in the food court kitchen.

"Can you tell where it came from?" Lori asked.

"Sounded like the back of the store."

"This floor or the one below?"

"Hard to tell, the way sound echoes around in here," T-Dog answered, rubbing his chin.

"I need to go find Rick," Lori insisted, panic starting to set in. T-Dog rolled his eyes but went along.

Up ahead Daryl heard the shot too. Ducking behind cover he methodically scanned for any movement. His crossbow was at the ready. Something was approaching, but it was moving too fast to be a Walker. It sounded like an animal.

"Liam," Daryl rasped as the dog ran by him. The dog ignored him and continued relentlessly on his mission. Whatever, Daryl didn't need the dog right now. Liam had come running from the direction he'd heard the gunshot. That dog was anything but gun shy. That meant something was wrong and River was in the middle of it.

He had to find her. All the time he spent telling himself he didn't care and that he had to keep his distance went out the window. Wherever she was, he would find her. He had to. Daryl moved swiftly in the direction of the gunshot with the deeply embedded practicality of a hunter. He didn't rush in blindly. There was still that awareness of his surroundings and an attention to detail that he always possessed.

* * *

The place the three men took River was once a stock room. They had transformed it into their living quarters. There were mattresses on the floor, cans of food on the shelves, kerosene lamps, and flashlights. Magazines littered the floor, mostly the dirty variety. They had weapons, an extensive collection of blunt objects and blades. Now they also had River's rifle and one magazine of ammo.

Small holes were bored into the wall. This place must have been their home base for sometime and it didn't look like they had plans of moving any time soon. It was hidden, out of the way, and they could watch through the peepholes for any intruders. Indeed, they waited for them. What other purpose could the sign out front hold than to lure people in so that they could steal from them. Food. Weapons. Supplies.

"Tie her up and gag her," Tattoo ordered leaving River with Hazel Eyes.

Scruffy, being neither the brains nor the brawn of the operation, got lookout duty. There was no sympathy on his face as Hazel Eyes secured their prisoner. River tried to bite down on his hand as he placed the gag in her mouth.

Grabbing her elbow and twisting it fiercely behind her back Hazel Eyes warned her, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

_Yeah, we'll you're not_ , River said into the gag. It came out as a string of nonsense grunts.

"Move it," Hazel Eyes ordered, roughly shoving River towards the far end of the room. "Sit," he commanded her as if she were a dog. When she didn't obey he kicked her behind the knees causing her to collapse. There was a pipe running down the wall he used to secure her to, tying her hands behind her back.

Hazel Eyes stepped back inspecting his work. River coiled her muscles and kicked at him. His friend could gut her alive if he wanted, she wasn't going to just sit there submissively. She missed him by no more than an inch. Angrily she cursed into the gag, none of the words coming out as more than unintelligible noises. The bastard stood there and laughed.

"Watch her, she's feisty," Hazel Eyes warned when Tattoo reappeared, a case in hand.

"I'll take it from here. Why don't you go check the roof. See if you can see anything."

"You got it."

River swore furiously into the gag. Tattoo crouched down beside her where she couldn't kick him. His cold, dark eyes were emotionless as he set down his case and stared at her.

"I'm going to give you a chance here," he told her. "I'm going to ask you a question and I suggest you answer it truthfully. If you don't I will hurt you." He said it with the same flat indifference that someone might use saying when reading a prompt. "Now, how many are in your group?" He reached up and pulled the gag out of River's mouth so she could answer.

"Go to hell asshole," River spat. "I don't know what group you're talking about." These were bad people. Whatever they had in mind for the rest of her friends, she had no intentions of leading him to them. Since she wasn't in the mood for being cooperative Tattoo replaced her gag.

"One thing is certain. I will get what I want eventually," Tattoo assured her. "How much you want it to hurt... Well, that's up to you."

* * *

Lori covered her mouth with her hand as she ran towards her husband. T-Dog was panting, running along behind her.

"Lori!" Rick exclaimed, relieved at the sight of his wife. "We heard a gunshot, are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm fine," she assured him, tears rolling down her face.

"Then why are you crying?"

"It's just... I heard the gunshot... I already thought I lost you once," she sobbed remembering visiting her husband in the hospital as he laid in coma.

"I'm right here," Rick said soothingly, taking her into his arms and rocking her gently. "You aren't going to lose me again. I swear it to you."

"Don't make a promise you don't know if you can keep," Lori replied.

"I do know one thing for sure," Rick smiled down at his wife, kissing her softly on the forehead.

"What's that?"

"That you and Carl are the most important things in the world to me and I will do everything in my power to protect you. Always."

Lori couldn't help but to smile a little bit as she sunk into his arms. Some of the tension evaporated as she felt his heart beat against her chest.

Shane scoffed. For a while, when they'd still believed Rick to be dead in the hospital, Lori had been his. The adjustment was a hard one for him to make now that her husband was back.

"Shouldn't we keep looking?" Shane reminded them.

"Yes. Come on. Lori you stick close to me," Rick insisted. They had no idea who had fired that gunshot or what could be lurking around any corner. That sort of uncertainty put him on edge.

* * *

Tattoo knelt down next to River's nearly limp body. Tears and blood stained her face. The girl had been feisty. Kicking and screaming into the gag, straining against her bonds and trying to lash out at him. But now, the fight seemed to have drained out of her. She sat still, her body leaned forward and her head bowed, quietly crying.

Deliberately Tattoo placed his tools, one by one, back into his case and closed the lid. Taking a cloth and wiping the blood from his hands, he spoke to her. His voice was deceptively calm and quiet.

"I'm gonna ask you again. If you don't tell me what I want to know then things are going to get a lot worse for you," Tattoo threatened. River couldn't imagine her life getting much worse at the moment. "Your cuts and bruises will heal, but there are other ways I can hurt you," he told her.

Tattoo ripped through her shirt with his knife, exposing the skin beneath. He traced his knife along her skin from her collar bone down to her breast, watching as her chest heaved up and down with each fearful breath. The blade was razor sharp leaving a thin line of blood in its wake.

"How many are in your group?" he repeated. River glared at him as he lowered her gag, giving her the chance to speak again.

"Just me and my imaginary friend," River answered drily.

"I know you're lying. You know that I know you're lying. Why don't you just do yourself a favor and tell me the truth?"

"Why don't you do the world a favor and go jump off the roof?"

Tattoo turned to Scruffy and told him, "Hey, why don't you keep watch outside for a bit? Me and the little lady need some privacy."

River's heart stopped for a brief moment and she found her stomach in her throat. Her vision blurred and she has to close her eyes.  _This isn't happening_ , she repeated over and over in her head, but when she opened her eyes she found him still staring back at her.

* * *

Jason reached out and shook his brother's shoulder roughly.

Dane turned. "Liam? What in God's name are you doing here?"

"He's limping," Jason observed.

Dane quickly checked him over for any bite marks or obvious injuries. "Seems to be his left shoulder, although I can't see anything."

"Something's wrong, Dane."

"I know," Dane sighed. "Sorry bud," he said, ruffling the dog's wavy dead grass fur. "Gotta ask you to do one more thing. Liam, go to Tom!" he commanded.

Dane and Jason followed quickly behind Liam. They ran into Rick and the others on the way.

"Whoa, where you guys running off to?" Shane questioned as they hurried by.

"River's in trouble," Dane quickly told him,

"How do you know?" Rick wondered.

"She sent Liam b-by him... Himself," Jason explained.

Shane shrugged as if to say  _who knows?_

"We'll come with you," Rick offered. "If she's in trouble you might need the help."

* * *

"You think I'm playing games here?" Tattoo asked furiously after his friend had left. "Fine, let's see how you like this one."

He ripped off River's jeans leaving her sitting in nothing more than her underwear and bra. She felt terribly exposed, unlike she ever had when she was dancing. Worse though, she felt more vulnerable than she had in her entire life.

Tattoo immediately picked up on her discomfort. Leaning in close so that River could feel his hot breath on her neck he told her, "I'm going to enjoy watching the moment when you break."

"I'm going to enjoy watching you die," River retorted. That was, if she ever got free. There was still that little problem.

"Enough talk," Tattoo crooned in her ear as he replaced her gag. His dark eyes were glowing with the excitement of power and control.

As Tattoo reached down and undid the zipper on his jeans, River felt a small piece of herself die. Trapped and unable to defend herself she wished that he had indeed just followed through with his earlier threat and gutted her alive. Time seemed to slow down and every agonizing moment dragged on forever as she waited helplessly.

* * *

_Tha' blood's fresh_ , Daryl thought to himself. Kneeling down he swiped his thumb through the bright red liquid and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Still warm and sticky. Luck was on his side. The trail was unmistakable, he followed it down the aisle toward a door near the far corner. Whoever was bleeding must've done a number on themselves.

As he approached the door opened. Daryl quickly ducked behind a dresser. Carefully he peered out. A large man appeared with black hair and a thick black beard. He was dressed in camo. There was a generous amount of blood soaked through his left pant leg. And if Daryl was right, that was no Walker bite on his leg. He'd be willing to bet those teeth marks matched up with Liam's.

If the mutt had bit him, there was only one conclusion to be drawn. He either had or was trying to hurt River. That dog wasn't aggressive. He'd seen Liam interact with everyone at camp. Never once had he bared his teeth at anyone. River was in danger. It was the only thing that made sense. Fueled by his anger, Daryl took the opportunity to sneak up on him using the bedroom furniture as cover.

"Best think twice 'bout makin' a sound," Daryl warned placing his crossbow against the back of the man's skull. "Walk slowly an' open th' door." Scruffy obeyed. As soon the door was opened Daryl whacked him on the back of the head, knocking him out. He entered with his crossbow at the ready.

Daryl's heart lurched. He'd found River. There was no moment of hesitation. He leveled the crossbow with the head of the man standing over her and pulled the trigger. The bolt pierced through his skull and his body crumpled.

River opened one eye. The other one was swollen shut. "Daryl?" she called out.

"Yeah," Daryl grunted as he kicked Tattoo's corpse away from her. "I'mma untie ya, hold on." River flinched as Daryl worked the knot.

He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, his head bowed down. Both of her wrists were covered in rope burn from struggling to get free. Seeing her battered body Daryl felt an overwhelming sense of shame. He blamed himself for not being there to protect her. Every cut. Every bruise. Somehow he felt responsible. Nausea swept over him.

"Be careful," River warned. "There's still another one of them out there. I think he went to the roof."

Daryl simply nodded, sliding the last loop of rope over her hands, freeing her from the pipe. "There."

River threw herself towards Daryl, burying her face in his chest. At first he stood there awkwardly and tense. He didn't know what to do. For whatever reason he'd expected her to blame him too, to be mad at him for not being there sooner. Tentatively he reached a hand around and placed it on her back.

At his touch River deflated. All of the air in her lungs expelled and her body seemed to shrink. Daryl couldn't help but notice how small and fragile she seemed as she clutched tightly to his shirt, trembling ever so slightly from head to toe. Daryl glanced at the corpse laying next to them, his bolt sticking out of the side it's head. He wished the bastard would come back just so he could kill him all over again.

"Yer okay now. I'll fin' that other sonbitch." Daryl carefully took her hands and released her fingers from his shirt.

"Don't go," River pleaded, looking up at him, her one good eye full of tears. His face twitched and he looked away.

"Daryl?" She breathed his name softly.

Daryl grunted, his gaze still averted. "Wha'?"

River waited patiently until the silence drove him to look at her again. "Thank you," she said, stretching up and placing a light kiss at the corner of his mouth.

Daryl looked down at her, confused by the torrent of emotions that was running through him. Guilt. Anger. Sadness... Desire. His face contorted at the uncomfortable feeling as something stirred within him. After having just rescued her from being tortured and nearly raped he knew he should be disturbed to be feeling such things. He was ashamed of himself.

These were feelings he'd been trying to suppress for too long. Almost losing her had been the breaking point to set them free. He couldn't deny it anymore. As inappropriate of a time as it was, Daryl grabbed her braids and tilted her head back, planting his lips firmly against hers. To his surprise River didn't resist, but pushed back just as needfully.

Daryl scooped her up in his powerful arms. His movements seemed jerky and tentative. There was so much uncertainty. In his blue eyes she saw both lust and questioning. They were searching her as if to ask  _is this alright?_  It was. It was more than alright.

River wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as their lips parted and their tongues explored each other's mouths. Her hand combed through his dirty blond hair. His rough, calloused fingers ran down her back as he moved them to her hips, grabbing her firmly. His touch made her body shudder and she could feel him getting hard through his jeans. Daryl paused, embarrassed and unsure.

An unexpected woof caused them to freeze in place. Had River not been hanging on so tightly with her bare legs, Daryl might have dropped her. Rick and Dane stood in the doorway with Liam between them. The rest of the group gathered behind. Everyone was staring in disbelief at the scene in front of them.

"What the hell happened here?" Shane blurted out.

There were two bodies on the floor, and they weren't Walkers. One of them had a bolt from Daryl's crossbow sticking out of the side of his head. These were their survivors they were looking for. Meanwhile, River was practically naked and tangled up in Daryl's arms.

"My God!" Lori gasped as River peeked around Daryl at the group. Her hand came up to her mouth.

"Tom!" Dane exclaimed, pushing past everyone.

Rick frowned, his eyebrows deeply furrowed. "River, who did this to you?" River nodded at the corpse laying on the floor next to them.

River unwrapped her legs from Daryl's waist and he placed her gently on the the ground.

"Tom are you...?" Dane looked at her uncertainly. There was deep pain etched on his face. Jason stood behind his older brother, unable to bring any words to his lips.

"I'm okay," River assured them.

Lori looked at the girl skeptically. "We need to get you back to the RV and get you cleaned up."

"There's still one of them out there," River warned, pulling on her jeans. Her shirt was ruined. Dane didn't hesitate to pull off his own this time and handed it to her. She nodded in thanks.

"All the more reason to get out of here," Shane pointed out.

River cradled the gun, caressing the smooth stock. With her eyes closed her fingertips traced the cool metal down the length of the barrel. She was glad to have it back. Now more than ever she realized the need for protection. Not just from Walkers, but from any that would try to do her harm.

Jason scooped up River's .308 that the men had stolen from her. Removing the magazine and ejecting the round that was in the chamber, he handed it back to her wordlessly. Instinctively River pulled back the bolt and examined the chamber ensuring it was safe. It was a routine the three of them had gone through more times than any of them could count, something that had become automatic.

Opening her eyes she replaced the magazine and cycled the action. Her eyes grew cold and she moved with a purpose that made the others uneasy. She kicked Tattoo's dead corpse, rolling it over onto it's back. Placing the muzzled against his cold, dead forehead she removed the safety on her rifle.

Rick stared at the crossbow bolt sticking out of his head. "I don't think you have to worry about him turning."

"I'm not," River said coldly as she pulled the trigger, splattering fragments of his skull and grey matter at her feet.  _Closure_.

The .308 packed a loud punch. Lori and Glenn both jumped.

"Waste of ammo," Shane muttered disapprovingly.

"Yeah? Well it's my ammo to waste," River replied sharply.

A low moan drew everyone's attention. Scruffy was coming to after having been knocked unconscious by Daryl. River turned, her eyes still cold and dark and walked over to him. Cycling the action she loaded another round into the chamber and aimed the rifle between his eyes.

Glenn's eyes widened like saucers. "Whoa!"

"Please...," begged Scruffy.

River gritted her teeth and narrowed her green eyes, shoving the muzzle harder into his forehead. Her finger hovered over the trigger. "You're not worth the bullet," she said finally, lowering the rifle.

Daryl smacked the black-bearded man in the face with the butt end of his crossbow, knocking him out again. When the other group members turned and looked at him, Daryl just shrugged.

"Let's go," River said, putting the safety on and slinging the rifle over her shoulder.

As the group left no one said a word to each other. They were all lost in their own thoughts. Until now they'd been under the impression that their struggle was one of the living versus the dead. This experience had taught them that the end of the world didn't change the fact that there were bad people out there, and not everyone was interested in banding together.


	23. Trapped

 

While searching the IKEA store for survivors River had been taken prisoner. Following the sound of the gunshot and the direction from which Liam came, Daryl had found her. Without a moment to spare he had rescued her from her captors. Liam, along with the others who had come into the store, were not far behind. They were reunited but not safe; one of River's captors were still out there.

Terror gripped at Lori. While she was in here with Rick, her son was out there in the parking lot. Carl might have Dale and Carol looking after him at the Winnebago, but as a mother that wasn't enough. She wouldn't feel alright until she had him in her arms again. All she wanted was to have her family together and to put as much distance between them and this place as she could.

"That monster could be anywhere," Lori insisted. "We should get back to the vehicles and get out of here."

"I don't care. I'm going after him," Dane stated in a tone that left no room for argument. The bastard had made the mistake of hurting River and he was going to pay.

Daryl stepped up and stood next to Dane. Wordlessly he gave him a nod that said he was going with him. The man that was out there was a threat to the group that needed to be dealt with.

"He was going to the roof," River offered. "Let's go."

"Are you kidding, Tom?" Jason blurted out. River was in no shape to be running around on the hunt for this guy. She looked like she'd been through the wringer.

Lori tugged at the young woman's arm. "Don't be crazy," she pleaded. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up."

"Let us take care of this one," Dane begged.

River set her jaw defiantly, her stubborn side coming out. "I'm coming, like it or not. Besides, I'm the only one who knows what he looks like," she reminded them.

"No changing your mind?"

"Nope."

"Okay then." Dane knew when not to bother arguing with her.

So it was that Daryl, River, Dane and Jason headed towards the roof to look for the third captor while the others made their way back to the vehicles. When the four of them reached the top of the stairwell they opened the door and stared out onto an empty rooftop.

* * *

Back at the Winnebago, Carl peered intently out the window. "I spy something that is black," he informed his companions confidently.

Sophia rolled her eyes. "That's too easy," she sighed. "It's Shane's jeep."

Carl pouted. "Fine, your turn," he told her.

"I spy something that is orange."

Carl giggled. "And you said mine was too easy!" he exclaimed already tasting victory. "Dane's jeep."

Sophia looked smugly at her playmate. "Nope."

Carl's face scrunched up as he searched for something else that was orange in the surrounding area. "Hey wait," he called out. "Who is that?" There was a stranger running towards them. He was dressed like an army man.

"I see him too," Dale said, getting up from the table.

"Is he with the army, momma?" Sophia asked excitedly. "Does this mean we're going to be rescued?"

Carol wrapped an arm around her daughter and looked out the window. "No sweetie, I don't think he is. He's probably just another survivor, like us."

Sophia slouched her shoulders. "Oh," she answered disappointedly.

"Must be one of the people from the store. The same ones that put the sign up," Dale reasoned.

* * *

On the rooftop Daryl growled angrily. "Sonuvabitch!"

"Where is he?" Jason asked. The roof was flat. If the guy was was there they would have spotted him right away.

River looked around wildly. "I don't understand..."

Dane walked to the edge of the roof and peeked over. "I think I found your guy," he told her.

"That's him," River confirmed as they watched the figure making his way across the parking lot towards the vehicles.

Daryl squinted. Cursing he lowered his crossbow. One disadvantage inherent to the piece of machinery was it didn't have the same sort of effective range that a rifle did. Forty yards was the absolute maximum distance he'd take a shot at an animal out hunting. Thirty or less was much preferable to get a good killing shot. This guy was easily a hundred and fifty yards from them now.

Approaching the edge of the roof River knelt and raised her rifle. Her breathing slowed as she removed the safety. Dane noticed the way she was waffling her head around the scope and he quietly got into position to take a follow up shot.

"I can't," River grumbled miserably. "My depth perception's all fucked up." With one eye swollen shut she was having trouble judging how far her target was and where to adjust her aim.

"I got him," Dane assured her. He was sitting on the ledge at the edge of the roof. His elbow was planted firmly on his one knee as he leaned into his rifle.

"Whatcha waitin' on?" Daryl growled impatiently.

"I need Dale to move," Dane told him. The old man was standing directly in line with his target. If he took the shot the bullet could potentially go right through him and injure Dale as well. Yet he didn't want to call out to Dale and alert his target. He could see the knife that he was carrying and didn't want to risk him lunging for Dale. So Dane waited for a clear shot.

* * *

As Dale stepped out of the Winnebago the stranger waved excitedly calling out, "Hey there!"

"Hello!" Dale called back.

"I saw your vehicles from the roof," the stranger explained. "My god, you have no idea how good it is to see you. I thought I was the last one left," he lied easily as he closed the distance between them. Tucked into his belt behind him was a large butcher's knife from the IKEA kitchen.

"What about the others?" Dale asked expectantly, gesturing to the sign hanging from the roof.  _Help: Uninfected Inside_.

"Got bit," the stranger offered. He had no idea that his friends were either dead or unconscious inside the store.

Dale wrinkled his nose, looking the man up and down. "You?" he asked.

"No, I'm clean," the stranger promised. He was standing just a few feet away from them now. In the doorway he could see two kids standing with a middle aged woman with short peppered hair.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners," Dale apologized. "I'm Dale, and this is Carol," he gestured, turning and taking a step to the side, "her daughter Sophia and..."

A sharp bang interrupted Dale mid introductions. A warm mist and bits of flesh splattered the side of his face. Turning, he was horrified to see the stranger's body laying on the asphalt of the parking lot. Touching the side of his face, he withdrew his hand to see it sticky with blood. A sick feeling overwhelmed him as he struggled not to vomit.

Glancing up in the direction the shot had come from Dale saw four figures lining the rooftop. It looked like Daryl, Dane, Jason and River, although he couldn't be sure from that distance. His eyesight wasn't entirely what it used to be.

"Oh my lord," Carol grabbed both children, dragging them back inside the Winnebago.

Andrea came out of the back of the RV where she'd been isolating herself. "What just happened?" she demanded.

Dale scratched his head. "I'm not sure."

* * *

With all hostiles accounted for, everyone met back up out in the parking lot. After a very brief explanation on what just happened they hit the road and found a place to stop for the night. They had taken care of the three hostiles, but for all they knew there could still be more. Getting away from the IKEA was the safest bet. Picking a straight stretch of highway where they could see for miles in either direction seemed like a good plan.

Once they were pulled over on the side of the road River reluctantly accepted some help with her injuries. Glenn brought Carol the first aid gear that he had picked up at the IKEA. Dane brought some water from the jeep and filled one of the pots that Dale had in the Winnebago.

"Team effort, eh?" River chuckled trying to lighten the mood.

Carol frowned and furrowed her eyebrows as she wiped the blood away from River's puffy face. Her lips formed a thin, tight line. Gentle as she tried to be, River still winced frequently at her touch.

Daryl stood in the doorway of the Winnebago, watching uncomfortably from a distance. His eyes squinted as he surveyed the damage done. The girl was tough. She'd gone through hell just to protect the rest of them.

"Sorry," Carol apologized, her gaze falling to the floor.

"It looks worse than it is," River tried to reassure her.

Carol wasn't convinced. Having suffered through Ed's beatings, she knew damn well that it was bad. Carefully she turned River's head to the side so she could wipe up the last of the blood. The skin underneath was turning a deep purple. There was a cut above her left eye, which was swollen shut. She also had a split and puffy lip.

Dale finished rummaging through the cupboards. "Found the Tylenol," he informed them, triumphantly holding up the nearly empty bottle.

"Thanks Dale!" River gladly snatched them up and swallowed a couple with a glass of water.

"That does it," Carol informed River. The smile she offered her was thin and deeply pained. "You'll need to take off your T-shirt," She instructed so that she could clean up the rest of her wounds.

Dale made a beeline for the door. "I'll give you ladies some space," he offered, leaving the vehicle.

Carol stared at Daryl and Dane waiting for them to follow suit. Daryl was the only one who made any move to leave.

"It's okay," River insisted. She felt safer with them near. "They can stay." Daryl hovered in the doorway, unsure what to do.

When River tried to remove Dane's oversized t-shirt she found that her range of motion was severely limited. The shoulder that her captors had wrenched behind her refused to cooperate. She was left with the shirt half-off and got stuck.

"Here," Carol offered, helping her to finish removing the shirt. A small gasp escaped the motherly woman's lips before she was able to contain it. She quickly swallowed, attempting to bring her reaction back to neutral.

"It's no big deal," River insisted.

"I don't know if these butterfly sutures that Glenn brought back will hold," Carol said examining one of the cuts on River's side. It was gaping and still oozing a small amount of blood.

"Got a sewing kit?" Dane asked.

"Why?" Carol asked. "You can't mean to..."

"Do you have one or not?"

"I'll go ask Dale," Carol offered, her face a little ashen. After speaking to Dale she returned and fetched a sewing kit from one of the drawers. "That man has everything," she noted in awe.

Dane took the sewing kit from Carol. "Could use something to sterilize the needle," he pondered.

Daryl turned and wordlessly headed out to Merle's motorcycle that was stowed in the back of the blue and white pickup truck. Rummaging through the saddlebags for a while he returned with a small bottle of vodka and another of rum.

Dane quickly glanced at what Daryl was holding out to him. "Give me the vodka, too much sugar in rum," he reasoned. Bacteria would feed on the sugar. Not that he had ever stitched River up with a needle and thread soaked in alcohol before, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"This is crazy," Carol protested, tugging anxiously at her blouse.

"Got a better idea?" Daryl drawled.

Carol took a deep breath and shook her head. Kneeling next to River she held her hand while Dane cleaned and stitched the wound. River winced and squeezed hard, crushing Carol's hand. Carol never uttered a complaint or a sound, but Daryl was watching.

"Maybe ya should drink this," he suggested. His face squinted as he handed River the bottle of rum. Might as well put it to some use and he hated seeing her in pain.

"Thanks," River said, tipping the bottle to her mouth and guzzling it quickly. Anything to dull the pain.

Dane examined the wound when he was finished. River smiled and told him, "You shoulda been a surgeon."

Letting out a laugh Dane replied, "Yeah, right." Then he turned to Carol, "The rest don't look so deep, you should be okay from here." Carol thanked him and took over. The rest of the cuts were shallow, illustrating just the extent of the rage the man must have felt when he'd inflicted the one that Dane had sewed up.

* * *

T-Dog emptied the bounty of food he and Lori had collected from the IKEA food court onto the table inside the RV. It wasn't much, but at least they would eat tonight. Dale poked through it and got to cooking. Pancakes and kidney beans with tomatoes. Then they all sat down together to enjoy a meal. Everyone except for River and Daryl. Each were seeking space for their own reasons.

"It's sort of like chili," Glenn compared the meal to life before the Walkers.

T-Dog grumbled in response. "That's a far cry from chili. My gramma, now she used to make good chili."

Dale was standing, hands on his hips. "I slaved over that pot, the least you could do is show a little appreciation."

"Sorry Dale, meant no offense, man," T-Dog sputtered.

Dale smiled. "None taken. We do the best we can with what we've got."

"I would kill for a bowl of my gramma's chili, though," T-Dog mused.

"I'd kill for some pizza," Glenn said, nearly drooling at the thought of it. He could picture the stringy mozzarella and thick slices of pepperoni. "What about you JJ?" he asked his new friend.

"Pizza's alright," Jason answered flatly.

"Dude!" T-Dog exclaimed. "Who doesn't love pizza?"

"If you could have any one meal from your old life, what would it be?" Glenn clarified.

Jason scratched his head and pondered the question. For the most part they had been eating pretty similar to their normal diets before they'd gone to the CDC. Squirrel. Raccoon. Fish. He didn't really feel like he was missing out too much, aside from there never being enough to go around.

"Elk liver and onions," Jason finally decided. "F-f-fresh though. Right over the fire."

Dale raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Lori wrinkled her face in disgust, and T-Dog and Glenn just stared in disbelief.

"Didn't you have, like, McDonalds or something where you're from?" T-Dog asked.

"Sure," Jason said, stuffing a mouthful of pancakes into his mouth and chewing. "But why would I g-go there, drive an hour and a half, when I could m-make elk burgers at home?" The two of them would have to agree to disagree. They were from different worlds.

"Or moose burgers," Dane added. "Tell you what I miss. Roast goose on the holidays."

"Oh my god," Jason said, salivating at the thought. "River made the best roast goose." The three of them always spent the holidays together, like the rest of the year.

Dane lit up. "Hey, when the birds start migrating you should see if you can get one," he suggested. After all, Jason did have the shotgun. "A nice big Canada goose or something and River can roast it up. If there's no holiday around the time," Dane went on, "we'll just make something up to celebrate." Not like they hadn't done it before.

"Remember  _Christmas Tree Cutting Day_?" Jason reminisced.

His older brother smiled. "Yeah, I remember."

It had become tradition that at the beginning of December Dane and Jason would go out and cut down two Christmas trees. One for their house and one for River's. Meanwhile, she'd cook up a big meal, usually a roast goose, but sometimes duck, potatoes, veggies and always desert. The three of them would all sit down and celebrate  _Christmas Tree Cutting Day_  together.

"You guys realize it's the end of the world, right?" Andrea shot from across the table. She was sick and tired of the three of them running around and acting like nothing was wrong.

Jason shrugged. "I liked the idea," he said timidly. "It would be fun."

"Fun?" Andrea said as if the word left an off taste in her mouth.

"It's a lovely idea," Dale defended them. "It'd do us all good to hang on to something positive. God knows we need something good in our lives."

Completely uninterested in getting into a debate, Dane stood. Ever since they'd left the CDC Andrea had been in a foul mood. It was her life, her choice, she argued. But Dane knew. All the years since their father had committed suicide, it had never been the same. It wasn't just her life. There were people here who cared about her. Her and Amy had become like daughters to Dale especially. If she killed herself it would devastate the old man and he'd never be the same.

"I'm going to take some food out to River," Dane offered, finding an excuse to leave.

* * *

River was sitting a hundred yards or so beyond where they'd parked the caravan. Her and Liam occupied the center of the asphalt. Lost in her thoughts and staring out into the darkness, the moon casting a faint outline over the world.

"Hey Tom, you hungry?" Dane asked, sitting down next to her. River shook her head and Dane set the plate of food down for Liam. "How you holding up?"

"I'll be fine," River answered mechanically.

"You sure?"

"Life doesn't end just 'cause bad shit happens, right?"

Dane picked up a pebble and skipped it down the empty highway. "Right."

River sighed and leaned up against his shoulder. Closing her eyes she breathed slowly, comforted by Dane's familiar presence.

"Thinking about the Blakes?" He asked her.

River nodded. The Blakes had been the foster family that she had ran away from just before she turned sixteen, nearly a year after her parent's car accident. That's how she'd ended up in the Jackson family's barn and their friendship had started all those years ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago. In a way it was. As far as River was concerned her life had started over when she met Dane.

"Did you want to talk about it?" Dane extended the offer to listen to her.

"Nope."

It was rare that River ever talked about that year of her previous life. If she didn't want to talk, that was okay. Dane wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him further. They could sit their all night and never say a word. It didn't matter. He was there if she needed him, and she knew that. It was that sort of certainty that had helped her though the rough times and allowed her to heal and learn how to trust again.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," River told him. He was her best friend. Even though they weren't related by blood, him and Jason were the only family she had.

"Don't talk silly, you know I'll always be there for you," Dane assured her.

Sighing River said, "I know."

A long silence passed. They listened to the sounds of the earth. The rustling of the breeze in the bushes. A lonely frog croaking somewhere off in the distance. Bats flying overhead.

"Everything that happened..." River trailed off, still staring out at the road.

Dane didn't push, he just waited, watching the stars, knowing that River would be more comfortable just speaking out loud that directly to him on the topic.

River stared again. "Everything that happened today. I didn't care that he was hitting me. I didn't care about the cuts and bruises. All I could think about was that I was trapped there," she confessed tearfully.

Dane squeezed her shoulder. "Is that why you're out here?" he asked. River nodded again.

When River had first ran away she had been extremely claustrophobic, spending nearly a year living in the woods, and in the winter, the Jackson's barn. Then Dane had helped her get a fake ID so she could get her own apartment. Much to his disapproval, she'd also used it to secure a job as a dancer at a strip club. It wasn't until she had had an unpleasant run in with a customer and Dane had intervened forcing her to quit that things started to turn around. Dane had talked to his dad, and eventually River had agreed to come and stay with them.

Since then, Dane had watched her improve dramatically. Although River still had trouble settling into a normal life. She was more comfortable out on the trapline with the freedom to roam and move from cabin to cabin, or out hunting, pitching a tent by a lake or on a mountain top. Every now and then though, something would remind her of her past and he'd see that claustrophobia flare up again. This was one of those times.


	24. Promises

 

_Not a shred of light penetrated the utility closet. Pitch black. On the other side of the cement wall a furnace roared to life. It's droning hum a familiar and soothing sound: River's one tie to the outside world. Every evening as the temperature dropped it would turn on and so she would keep track of the days._

_It had been three days since she had seen another living sole. Three days since David Blake had brought her any food. Groping in the darkness she found the water bottle stashed in the corner and shook it. Almost empty. River licked her parched lips and resolved to wait a little longer. There was no rhyme or reason. She never knew how long it would be._

_Footsteps. River waited, listening intently. One after another they clunked down the stairs then patted across the cement floor. As the door cracked open River pressed her back to the far wall. There was nowhere to run in the tiny room. She was trapped, yet she retreated to the farthest corner all the same._

_Light spilled in nearly blinding her. The world became a sea of undefinable brightness to eyes accustomed only to the unpenetrable darkness. River squinted, the searing pain radiating from her eyes out toward her skull. A face appeared, peering in at her._

_David Blake was not her captor, yet she was still his prisoner. The man staring in at her was supposed to be her foster father. Now his squat, round frame blocked the doorway. River's only escape was through a man who terrified her. As she gazed fearfully back at him his frame elongated. His perfect suit transformed to military pants and a sweat stained wife-beater. Tattoo's painted the length of his arm._

* * *

Daryl had been avoiding River since the incident at the IKEA. He'd stuck around while Carol cleaned her up to make sure she was okay then he'd disappeared. Sometime during the night River had snuck into the bed of his truck while he slept inside. Now she tossed and turned in a fitful sleep and he stood back, unsure of what to do.

Liam was curled up next to her. Letting out a low whine he laid his head across her chest. River twitched and mumbled nonsense phrases which only distressed the dog further. His whining became more pronounced and he poked her with his wet nose. The young woman didn't stir.

"Hey," Daryl finally said, reaching in tentatively and shaking her shoulder. "Hey, wake up," he rasped.

River startled awake at his touch. The ordeal had left her soaked with sweat and feeling entirely unrested. In a state of disorientation she swung her head around trying to place her surroundings. It was neither the utility closet nor the stock room. A weight lifted off her shoulders. She was safe.

"What'd you wake me for," River grumbled trying to mask the fear she'd felt upon waking. "I was sleeping."

"Looked like ya were doin' more than that," Daryl replied.

River stared at him oddly. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Thrashing 'round an' talkin' to yerself like some kinda nut job."

River's face paled. Part of her wanted to ask if Daryl had made out anything she'd said, but she was afraid of the answer. Afraid that he'd got a glimpse into a deep dark corner of her soul that she tried to keep buried. How could she explain the nightmares that haunted her from time to time. Images from a year of her life that she'd spent over a decade denying existed. Dane was the only one who knew that part of her, she didn't expect anyone else to understand.

Daryl stared at her puzzled by the sudden change of demeanor. "The hell's yer problem? Not like I jus' told ya yer gonna die or nothing." With that, he turned and walked away, much to River's relief.

* * *

Since getting the new CDs at IKEA Jason had something other than Tom Petty stuck in his head. He'd managed to get Dane going on it too. "Don't go around tonight," they sang in unison. Their spirits were high after finishing off the last of the pancakes Dale had made for breakfast. "Well, it's bound to take your life."

"There's a bathroom on the right," Jason belted out at the top of his lungs drowning out his brother. The stunt earned him a laugh out of Carl and Sophia. Even Shane chuckled. The kid was finally starting to settle in with the group.

"That's a silly song," Carl commented.

Dale smiled and shook his head. "That's not how the song actually goes. It's supposed to be  _there's a bad moon on the rise_. I mean, it's classic Creedence Clearwater Revival. How can anyone butcher a song like that?"

"Come on Dale," Shane said, leaning back in his chair. "Let the kids have some fun."

Jason continued to sing the song substituting in his own version of the lyrics until Liam came bounding in through the open door of the Winnebago. His tail wagged as he worked passed everyone and sat expectantly in front of Jason. The dog's tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted and stared straight at him.

"Hey Liam," Jason greeted, ruffling dog's fur. He pulled the note stuffed in the dog's collar and made sure it had his name on it. "Good boy. Now go to River," he told him making a point to use River's proper name as per her request. It wasn't just the three of them now and consistency was important.

Liam turned and rushed passed ignoring everyone else on the way to his master. "Good dog," River greeted him, folding another piece of paper and tucking it under his collar. "Go to Carl!" she instructed. Liam looked puzzled at River for a moment and she repeated the command firmly, "Liam, go to Carl!"

Liam turned and worked his way down the caravan. Stopping by the SUV he sat and looked up at Carol with his big amber eyes. Carol reached down and checked the note. "Sorry Liam. Looks like you got the wrong person," she told him. The dog waited for a word he understood with his head cocked to the side. "Liam, go to Carl," Carol said, sending him off to try again.

It wasn't the first time that morning the dog had got two names mixed up. River supposed he was having trouble differentiating them. He'd had trouble with the distinction between Dale and Daryl also. River had quickly fixed that by changing the name to Dixon. Of course, the redneck had been less than cooperative with her game.

Teaching Liam the names of everyone in the group had been Rick's idea once he'd seen how smart the dog was at the IKEA he'd approached River and asked her if it was doable. One never knew when it might come in handy, he'd reasoned. River couldn't have agreed more. The lesson had started earlier before breakfast with River taking Liam around from person to person and doing a couple of short distance sends from five feet in front of them. It had been the building block for her current game.

The more advanced training exercise went on for a good twenty minutes. It was something she'd work at for short periods over the coming days. River made sure to intersperse it with a few retrieves of a stick and to stop before Liam got bored. Chesapeake's were clever dogs that didn't like too much repetition in their training. They were stubborn and likely to dig in their heels and stonewall their owners if they got bored. It was all about keeping things interesting and knowing when to call it quits.

* * *

Rick gave the word that it was time to move on. Everyone shuffled along to their places in the caravan. No one was looking forward to the journey ahead of them. Hanging over all of them was the thought that Fort Benning could be just another Atlanta or CDC. While it was on everyone's minds, not everyone was worried about what to do if that happened to be the case.

River stood between the two vehicles torn as to which way to go. On the one side was the Jackson brother's big orange jeep. River was used to spending all of her time with them. They were her best friends. It was routine, it was easy and safe.

On the other side of her was Daryl's blue and white pickup truck. He was unpredictable and River never knew where she stood with the redneck. She was also worried about what she may have said when he'd found her talking in her sleep. Going to him was different, exciting, and scary.

"Just go, eh," Jason told her, nudging her in the direction of the pickup and winking. A wide grin was spreading across his face.

"Why, what's it to you?" River asked, smirking back at the youngster.

"At least one of us should get to get lucky," he told her, raising an eyebrow.

River's jaw dropped. "Is that all you think about?" she teased, punching him lightly in the shoulder. He was nineteen, what did she expect.

"What, just 'cause the world went crazy doesn't mean you shouldn't..."

River cut him off. "You know what JJ, never mind," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. It was Dane's kid brother. She didn't need a lecture from him on sex in the post-apocalyptic world.

"Come on," Jason insisted. "I saw you disappear into his room at the CDC. Then at the IKEA."

"Nothing happened," River said. Her tone was a mix of defensiveness and disappointment.

"It will," Jason assured her. "You two are freaking meant to be together." It appeared she had the blessing of both brothers.

River sighed. "I hope you're right. I kinda like him," she admitted, staring longingly towards the truck.

"Yeah, we'll it's kinda obvious," Jason teased. River rolled her eyes. She didn't care, it was no big secret. "Go on," Jason said, giving her one last push in Daryl's direction. River went.

Daryl was unloading Merle's motorcycle from the back of the pickup. Fuel was in short supply and the motorcycle was more efficient as well as being easier to maneuver. He turned and squinted when River called out to him.

"It alright if Liam and I ride with you?" River asked as if everything were normal. Smirking she added, "See, I even asked this time."

"No room," Daryl told her as he slammed the tailgate shut.

River stared into the truck. "Why do you got to be such an ass all the time. There's lots of room."

"I ain't takin' the truck," Daryl explained. Swinging one leg over the bike he repeated, "Like I said, ain't no room."

River huffed. "Fine, but at some point you're going to have to stop avoiding me and pretending like nothing happened," she said bluntly as she turned and walked back to the jeep.

Daryl stared after her but said nothing. He had been avoiding her. Intimacy wasn't something he was good at. What had happened at the IKEA was unlike him. His need for her had just overwhelmed him. A combination of fighting his feelings for her and having almost lost her. It had been too much. Now he didn't know what to do.

* * *

Two honks signaled from the Winnebago for the caravan to stop. Dale got out lifted the hood frowning at the innards of his trusty RV. "It's the damn hose," he said his frustration bubbling over.

"Can't you just patch it up or something?" Shane asked impatiently. Except that it had already been patched up. Duct tape would only get a person so far. They were going to need to find a replacement hose.

In the mean time they needed to work on a plan. Going forward had it's pitfalls. The glaringly obvious one being the automobile graveyard ahead of them, blocking their way. Daryl scouted ahead with the motorcycle. Moving the vehicles to create a path would not be a viable option. There was no way to maneuver the cumbersome Winnebago safely through the wreckage left by the panic stricken mass exodus when Wildfire had gone global.

Glenn studied the map and found them an alternate route. It required doubling back which meant fuel they didn't have. Of course, the problem caused by the abandoned vehicles in the previous scenario provided an opportunity in Glenn's strategy. It was unlikely that all the fuel had already been siphoned from every vehicle. Which meant that it was there for the picking along with the assortment of other items they'd already decided to try and scavenge. The road block thus became a smorgasbord for fuel, pills, weapons, and anything else they could lay their hands on.

The Walkers came out of nowhere. Or at least that was how it seemed to the group who was preoccupied with gathering supplies. Their main concern had been possible lurkers in the cars, waiting motionless for a potential meal to walk by. It was easy enough to mistake a stationary Walker for an ordinary corpse.

So far the group had seen nothing like this, which took them even more by surprise. It wasn't a Walker. It wasn't even just a group of Walkers. It was an entire herd of them. A Walker army all walking in unison down the highway. For the mindless living dead, it was a strange and inexplicable sight. But at the moment, it was to terrifying to worry about why.

Most everyone quickly darted under the vehicles. The mothers willed their children, silently gesturing to them, to stay still. To stay put. To wait. It took ever ounce of willpower that Carol and Lori had. They didn't know if it would work, if the throng of passing flesh-eating monsters could be so easily fooled. But there was no alternative, so they hoped and prayed and waited.

And it had almost worked. The herd passed by. Whatever they were after was more interesting than the faint and difficult to trace smell of the flesh of living. As the group slowly worked their way out from under the vehicles, Sophia got spooked by a straggler and took off over the embankment and into the woods. Rick didn't hesitate to go after her.

Seeing Carol's panic-stricken face, Dane asked "what's wrong?"

"My Sophia," Carol wailed. "She was so scared. She ran off."

Lori patted her shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay. Rick's gone to get her. He'll bring her back."

"I'll go check on them, Dane offered.

Carol looked lost. "My baby girl," she cried. "Please help Rick find her." Dane was already halfway down the hill towards the forest.

T-dog stumbled towards the RV. He was holding tightly his arm. Blood was everywhere.

"Man, don't worry. I'm not bit," he assured the others seeing the horrified expressions on their faces. "Cut myself on some glass."

"I am," Jason said staggering in behind T-Dog. He was clutching his neck, blood gushing out between his fingers. Everything up on the highway came to a standstill.

"JJ!" River exclaimed, rushing to his aid.

His voice sounded weak and distant. "Where's my brother?" he asked.

"Gone to help Rick look for Sophia."

Jason nodded. "You know what you need to do," he told her.

_"If ever one of us is bit, whoever is left puts them down on the spot."_

Their pact, made what felt like an age ago. The group had just lost Amy and Jim and they had been on their way to the Center for Disease Control. Having watched the devastation and suffering a Walker bite could cause up close they had made a promise to each other not to draw out the inevitable. Of course, it was one of those things they never really believed could happen to them.

_"I wouldn't want to come back as one of those things."_

River closed her eyes, blocking out the world. If only she could just will it all away. But this was real. This was happening. She swallowed hard, feeling the tears welling up behind her eyelids.

"Dane will be back. He just went to check on Rick and Sophia," River assured the younger brother.

"No," Jason shook his head vehemently. He could feel the heat of infection spreading through his veins. "I told you if I was ever bit I didn't want to become one of those things." The bite was bad and so close to his brain that he was certain he didn't have long.

"Are you sure?" River asked, her voice shaky and afraid.

"I'm sure," Jason answered with a steadiness to his voice she normally only ever heard in his older brother.

A promise had been made that day as they headed towards the CDC. River placed a single round in the chamber of her rifle. With a deep breath she placed the muzzle against Jason's forehead.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Shane barked at her as he grabbed River's arm and pulled her off to the side.

Shakily River answered, "I have to. I made a promise." One that she wished she didn't have to keep.

"You can't fire that thing now. Jesus woman, think for a second," Shane reprimanded her. "That herd that just passed by, what do you think it's going to do if you fire a shot."

River stared at him. Her world had been overwhelmed by the thought of her friend dying and she had thought of nothing else. Understanding dawned on her and she chewed her bottom lip.

"That's right," Shane said, not waiting for her to answer. "They'll turn around. Maybe hiding under the cars doesn't work this time. Maybe more of us get bit."

"I can't just leave him like this," River protested. Jason was hurting and she owed it to him not to let him turn into one of those things.

"Find another way," Shane told her callously, "but you do not fire that rifle." He had the good of everyone else to look out for.

"Daryl's crossbow," Jason suggested.

She couldn't let him become one of those things. Jason had sat in a silent vigil all night as Andrea held her sister as she died. He had seen how she had cradled Amy's dead body until she returned as a Walker. Hours of waiting, of heartbreak, of knowing that she would have to place that gun to her sister's head and pull the trigger and watch her die a second time. Hours that had been for Andrea, not for Amy.

They had all watched Jim deteriorate. They had all been there when they left him at the side of the road because he could no longer bear the pain caused by the spreading infection. River couldn't ask Jason to continue suffering through the fever and pain as Jim had. Like Andrea, it would be for her and Dane. Selfishness because they weren't ready to lose him, not because it would be best for Jason. No, she had to honor their pact.

Daryl was just returning to the rest of the group. River approached him and told him, "I need your crossbow."

Having no idea what was going on, Daryl glared at her and scoffed. "Ain't no way," he told her.

In no mood for games or bickering River snapped back, "Look Dixon, just give me the fucking crossbow." She meant business.

"What d'ya need it for?" Daryl drawled. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, surprised by the urgency he had heard in her voice.

"Jason's been bit," River told him, tears brimming in her eyes. She was trying desperately to hold it together. "Shane won't let me use my rifle because it's too loud."

Daryl drew back and looked sideways at River. He could see through her facade to the desperation and helplessness laying just beneath her words. Those tears were barely a scratch on the surface of what she was feeling.

Breaking eye contact Daryl squinted and looked down. He realized he had been an ass. Here was River, ready to put down her friend: A boy she loved as family and who loved her back unconditionally. A boy who's bond with her was completely unfamiliar to Daryl.

Sure Daryl wasn't without kin. He'd had Merle, and in his own way he'd always thought he loved him. But Merle's love and affections had been anything but unconditional as he tried to toughen Daryl up and make him a man. Their father had been even worse. What River shared with those two brother's was different from anything Daryl had ever known.

Without another word, Daryl unshouldered his crossbow and handed it to River. What she had to do wasn't going to be easy. Daryl grimaced as he watched her turn and walk away, every step weighed down by the burden she carried. It was a burden he wouldn't wish on anyone.

"Holy shit," Dane exclaimed, cresting the hill back onto the highway. "Dixon actually let you touch his crossbow?"

Normally River would have laughed with him and made some remark back. Not today. Instead, today she had to tell him that his brother was bit and that she'd got Daryl's crossbow to Jason's life.

"Oh Dane," River wailed, "I am so sorry."

Dane stopped in his tracks. "Sorry about what?" he asked suspiciously.

There was no easy way to say it. "JJ..."

"What about JJ?" Dane demanded.

"He's been bit."

"No," Dane refused to believe it. "You're wrong. He can't have been bit." Dane looked around. Everyone was watching him with sadness and sympathy on their faces. Carol clutched at her shirt. Shane lowered his head and looked away. Lori covered her mouth with her hand, recalling the pact she'd overheard the three of them make.

"JJ!" Dane rushed towards his younger brother. Seeing the blood soaked cloth pressed firmly to his neck he knew it was true.

"Dane!" Jason called back. The two stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. The silence as the rest of the group watched helplessly was deafening.

"Remember, life doesn't end just 'cause bad shit happens, eh" Jason reiterated their mantra. Dane closed his eyes. Never did he think that his brother would be echoing those words back to him. Especially not in a situation like this.

Tears started to stream down River's face. "I can't do this," she squeaked.

"You don't have to," Dane told her, taking the crossbow out of her hands. "It should be me."

Kneeling Dane gave his brother a final hug. "I love you, JJ," he said as he stood and aimed the crossbow between his eyes. Jason swallowed, trying not to tear up or be afraid. He was trying to make it easier for his brother.

Dane's hand trembled, his finger over the trigger. Jason nodded to him, he was ready. No matter how he willed himself to do it, Dane couldn't. River gently placed her hand over his. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks.

"If we love him, then we won't let him become one of them," River told him in barely a whisper. Hand over hand she helped Dane to squeeze the trigger. It was instantaneous. There was no more suffering. His limp, lifeless body would not rise as a Walker. Jason was dead in old sense of the word. For him, it was truly over. For Dane and River the pain was only beginning.


	25. What Lies Ahead

 

While stuck at a mass grave of abandoned vehicles with the Winnebago out of commission again, the group had been passed by a herd of Walkers. Sophia had run off and was missing. T-Dog had injured his arm on a car door. And Jason... He had been bit. Now he was dead. Everyone stood around in shock. They'd watched it happen. They'd watched his own brother and best friend end his life.

Dane blinked and took a deep breath. His brother's body laid motionless at his feet. Swallowing hard, he knelt down and laid a hand on his arm. The skin was still warm. Shakily he reached out and traced his fingers over Jason's face. Blood still trickled out of the crossbow bolt wound. The wound he'd caused. The wound that had killed him.

"I'm sorry," Dane whispered over and over.

River crouched down beside him making no effort to subdue her own tears. It had been her hands over Dane's on that crossbow. "This isn't your fault," she murmured in his ear.

"What do I do now?" Dane asked helplessly.

The desperation and uncertainty in his voice scared River. Dane had always been their rock. She had no answers for him. Inside she was feeling just as lost as he was. It was supposed to be the three of them until the end of time.

"You bury him," Dale said simply. "You bury him and you make room for the pain. It's all you can do." The man spoke with years of wisdom and experience. He'd lost his wife, not to the Walkers, but to cancer. Loss and grief were not unfamiliar to him.

Andrea sat on the steps of the Winnebago, staring out at the scene and listening to Dale's words. It reminded her of the night they were attacked at the quarry camp. The night Amy had died. In her hand she still clutched tightly the screwdriver she'd used to dispatch the Walker that had got into the RV. Restricted of blood by her death grip her knuckles were turning white.

"Why don't you let me take that," Lori said gently.

Andrea looked down, unaware she was still holding on to the tool. She let Lori release her finger's from the plastic handle and place it on the counter just inside the door.

"What is the point?" Andrea said, her eyes glued to Jason's body. "This is all we've got to look forward to."

Dale frowned. "We still have each other. We can still make lives for ourselves."

"Lives? Really Dale? You want us all to go off and play house for what? So we can watch the people around us die one by one."

There was no way to get through to her. Dale sighed.

"Everything dies," River mumbled. Her tone was flat and dejected.

Andrea misunderstood. "Exactly! So what's the point?"

River turned and looked directly at Andrea. "The point is that it's always been that way. The Walkers didn't change that, so why should we act like life is over. It isn't."

"You just put an arrow through your friend's head." Andrea said, glaring at her. "And you're trying to tell me that this is all okay?"

_Not an arrow, a bolt_ , River found herself thinking. It was a ridiculous distinction to care about at the moment. "It's not okay, but life goes on. It has to."

"Why?" Andrea demanded. "Why does it have to?"

Frustrated, Dane snapped at Andrea. "If you wanted to join your sister so bad, you could have just let that Walker bite you."

"So you could put an arrow through my head too?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

The two stared at each other. Each seething with anger. Each hurting beyond what words could explain.

* * *

Carol wrung her hands. There was no movement out in the woods. Rick hadn't come back with Dane and her little girl was still missing. She paced restlessly at the edge of the highway wanting to take off after her but knowing that to do so would only mean that Rick would be out there looking for two people instead of one.

"It's okay," Lori consoled her. "Rick will bring your daughter back."

"Dane went out after them," Carol said meekly. "Did he say anything?" Lori shook her head. No one had dared ask him as he was busy dealing with his own crisis.

* * *

"I need a shovel," Dane said, finally standing up and leaving his dead brother's side. "Where's the one we had back at the quarry?"

"Man, you don't need to do this right now," Shane told him.

"Yes I do."

Shane shook his head. "When Rick gets back with Sophia, let us help you."

"I'll do it. Where's the shovel?" Dane insisted. He just wanted it to be done. To be over.

Shane held out for a moment and watched him. The man's mind was made up. "In the back of the station wagon." when they had left the IKEA they had cut down on the vehicles. They just had Dale's RV, the station wagon, Daryl's bike and Dane's big orange jeep.

Dane nodded in thanks and went to fetch it without another word. He found a spot off the highway and started digging. The ground was hard. He had to strain to break it. Not that that was a bad thing. It gave him a physical outlet to vent his anger and hurt as he exerted every last ounce of energy he possessed.

* * *

Rick finally emerged from the woods. Everyone was waiting with baited breath. Every second felt like an eternity as they watched for a tiny figure to step out behind him, but Sophia did not follow.

"Did you find her? Where's my little girl?" Carol begged, fearing the worst.

"You mean she's not here?" Rick asked surprised. When he'd left her he'd given clear instructions. If he didn't return she was to run back to the highway, to keep the sun on her left shoulder. Returning and finding Sophia not where he'd left her Rick had assumed that's what she'd done.

Carol shook her head. "Oh my baby, my poor little girl." The woman paced with no idea what to do with herself.

"Don't worry. We'll find her," Rick assured the panicked mother. "She can't have gone far."  
Lori put a reassuring arm around Carol's shoulder. "It'll be okay."

Rick turned to Daryl. The unfriendly redneck was an expert tracker. He was also the last person in the world that Rick wanted to ask for help, but what choice did he have. He couldn't find that little girl on his own.

"Daryl," Rick called out.

Daryl shifted his weight to his left leg and squinted at Rick. "Whatcha want?"

"I'd like your help to search for Sophia."

To his surprise Daryl didn't blow up or argue. He simply nodded in agreement. "I can do tha'."

Rick let out a sigh of relief and looked around. That's when he spotted Dane. "Anyone checked in on Dane over there?" he asked. "It looks like we might have another Jim on our hands." Carol and Lori looked at each other awkwardly then at Rick.

"Diggin' a grave," Daryl said, since the other two didn't have the balls to tell Rick themselves.

Rick's eyes widened with shock. "What? For who?"

"His brother," Daryl answered bluntly.

"JJ? What happened?" Rick asked, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Got bit. They shot him."

"What? Just like that?"

"Yup."

Rick rubbed his forehead. He could count on Daryl to be to the point. Still, the abruptness with which he relayed the news disturbed him.

* * *

Shane walked over to where River was sitting. "Can that mutt of yours track?"

"What?" River asked, looking up dazed and confused. She'd been lost in her thoughts and hadn't heard him.

"Rick and Daryl are going out to search for Sophia. I want to know if that mutt of yours can track," he repeated. "Can he find people or not?"

"Liam's not a mutt," River said as if she was oblivious to everything else Shane had told her. "He's a purebred Chesapeake Bay Retriever."

"Jesus Christ woman, who cares?"

River shrugged and went back to petting her dog and staring off towards where Dane was digging his brother's grave. She'd been in her own little world since Jason had died. Since she'd helped to kill him.

"Dude, you should chill," T-Dog told Shane who was fuming. "Relax a little, she just lost someone."

"Yeah, we'll we're about to lose one more if we don't get out there and find that little girl," Shane snapped back. They were sitting ducks out there on the highway. The sooner they could find Sophia the sooner they could be on their way.

River listened to the two men bickering back and forth. She knew Shane was right. They needed to find Sophia before nightfall and she might be able to help. "Liam can track a little, though he's not very good," she admitted. "All he ever needed to do was tree a raccoon or follow the blood trail of a wounded animal for me. He was a natural at that so I never bothered to formally train him."

"We'll take what we can get," Shane told her. "They headed off that way towards the creek where Rick left her," Shane pointed. "If you hurry you should be able to catch up with them."

River stood and eyed Shane suspiciously. "You're not coming?"

"Someone needs to keep the peace and protect the group should that herd come back."

River shrugged and patted her leg for Liam to follow. Guilt swelled in pit of her stomach as she followed the trail to the creek where Rick and Daryl would start tracking Sophia. Jason's body was still laying on the hot asphalt baking in the sun. In the heat it would decompose quickly and soon it would be just another pile of rotting meat. For now though, it was still her friend and she felt like she was abandoning him, that she should wait until his body was cared for and in the ground. Circumstance however, wouldn't allow.

* * *

"Whatcha doin' here?" Daryl greeted River as she approached. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as she got nearer.

"Helping. What's it look like?" River snapped back.

"Don' need yer help."

"Wasn't asking," River retorted placing her hands defiantly on her hips. "Come on Liam."

Daryl stared for a moment. The pose was so reminiscent of that first day when him and Merle had brought the three Canadians back to the quarry camp. River had insisted on setting up their tent right next to the Dixon's. When he'd told her to set up somewhere else she'd struck that same pose. Stubborn, cute, and unafraid, unlike the rest of the camp which had feared and despised them. Except this time, he noticed the fire in her green eyes was missing. They were dull and lifeless.

It was an uncomfortable feeling for Daryl as he watched River. One he couldn't put words to and sure as hell didn't know what to do with. It was so much easier when she wasn't around. So much simpler. He turned his head away, stealing sideways glances as she took Liam to where Rick was standing in the creek and showed the dog a shirt of Sophia's. The dog inhaled the scent of the girl. While he wasn't a bloodhound his sense of smell was still tens of thousands of times better than their own.

"Go find Sophia," River said in a firm voice. Liam looked at her and shifted his weight back and forth from one paw to the other excitedly. He was just glad to be back out in the bush. River licked her lips and tried not to let her frustration show. It wasn't Liam's fault she hadn't spent much time teaching him how to track. "Come on bud, it's just like following wounded game," she pleaded, knowing he wasn't understanding a word of it. "Liam," she tried again, "go find Sophia."

Liam snorted, his nose to the ground. He followed the trail that Daryl had already made out as being Sophia's. Once in a while he'd get off track and circle around until he picked up the scent again.

"I kinda wish I'd taken the time to teach him how to do this," River spoke regretfully to Rick as they followed behind.

"He found Dane at the IKEA," Rick said encouragingly.

River shrugged. "That was different."

"How so?" Rick asked curiously. He found it amazing how much the dog knew to do and how much River was able to teach him.

"Well for one," River answered, "It was Dane and he knows Dane very well. And secondly he wasn't following a scent trail."

Rick looked puzzled. "How did he find him then?"

"He looked," River laughed realizing the absurd simplicity of it. "You really want to know how he learned to go find Dane?"

"Sure."

"When it was my turn to cook I'd send Liam to find him and JJ once dinner was ready. Usually they were just outside the cabin skinning or fleshing critters." River stopped mid step, a sob caught in her throat. For a brief moment while she was talking to Rick she'd forgot. Never again would they sit down to dinner. Never again would they spend long hard hours out on the line to finally retire at night and just enjoy each others company and a game of cards.

Rick noticed the way she halted and the way her face had gone slack. "Is everything alright?"

"No," River shook her head. "I should be up there helping Dane bury JJ. I never should have left him laying there like that," she said, guilt overwhelming her again.

Up ahead Daryl snorted. "Wha' use is it worrying 'bout a dead guy. Sophia's still alive an' she's out there somewhere," he said gesturing in frustration to the woods around them. They had to stay focused on the living and on the things they had control over.

River's expression towards Daryl turned to disgust in response to his words. "He was my friend," she said angrily. "My family."

"Yeah. Was. Ain't anymore. Nothin' but worm food now." Daryl saw the tears well up in her eyes and felt a pang of remorse. But it was true. Jason was already dead. Nothing they could do about that, but they could find Sophia. They could save that little girl.

"You know what? I don't want to talk to you," River snapped. "So why don't you just shut your fucking mouth and keep looking." He was so God damned insensitive. She understood what he was trying to say, but his words still struck her as cruel.

"Fine by me," Daryl grumbled, bending down to examine some bruising on a leaf. Someone or something had definitely stepped there, and recently too. Further ahead he found a broken twig and a partial footprint. At least he knew they were still on the right path and weren't following some wildlife.

River strolled alongside Rick, lost in her thoughts. Periodically Liam would come back and sit in front of her and whine. When he did she'd show him the t-shirt again and tell him, "Go find Sophia."

"Yer mutt's mucking up my tracks," Daryl grumbled as Liam nosed by him and kicked up some moss.

River sighed. "Liam, heel," she commanded. "That better?" Asshole, she mouthed silently to herself at the end.

Daryl gave her the finger and resumed tracking without uttering another word to her. He didn't want her there. Things were awkward between them, since the IKEA. They hadn't said much to each other besides some minor bickering. Not that he knew what to say to her. All he knew was that River was pushing for him to acknowledge what happened between them and he wasn't comfortable with her that much in his space.

Daryl preferred to watch her from a distance. Somewhere where he could keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe, but where they didn't have to interact. He liked this girl, and he didn't want to screw things up because he didn't know what to do. Better to keep her at arms length, but of course, River had other plans.

Pushing the thoughts about River aside, Daryl stopped and examined the area they were at again. And again. He ran a hand through his dirty hair and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Something wrong?" Rick asked.

"The trail. It just ends. Ain't no more tracks."

"How can that be?"

Finding a nice rock nearby, River sat and pet her dog. Gently stroking his head an running her hand down the wavy fur on his back. Childishly she waited for Daryl to ask for her help, or rather, for Liam's. After what an insensitive jerk he'd been she figured he had it coming. Dixon wasn't going to like having to ask.

"Hell if I know," Daryl grumbled scouring for any sign he might have missed. Nothing. The redneck cursed and swore. Carol was counting on him, he couldn't let her down.  _Failed again, huh little brother? Best leave it to the real men. Maybe Rick or Shane gonna find tha' lil' girl._  Merle's voice filled his head. It had been a while since it had come to taunt him.

Something softened in River as she watched Daryl's face. Finding Sophia meant something to him ad she felt guilty for letting her dispute with him get in the way of that. "I can see if Liam can pick anything up," she offered without a hint of malice or condescendence in her voice. "As long as he won't be in your way."

Daryl took a step back. He'd expected her to be smug and laugh at him for not being able to follow the tracks. Yet her face was soft as she waited on him. "Yeah, whatever. See if yer mutt don' find nothin'," he relented. Sophia was more important than his pride.

Once again River sent Liam off to search. The stocky dog sniffed where the trail ended. When it didn't continue he started doing circles. Each one was progressively larger than the last. But even the Chesapeake came back empty handed. The trail had just vanished.

"It's getting dark," Rick pointed out looking up towards the canopy. Darkness always fell earlier in the woods and it came quickly.

Daryl grimaced. "Gonna have t' go back," he agreed through clenched teeth. "No use tryin' to track in the dark."

"We'll pick up where we left off in the morning," Rick assured them. Of course they would, but he knew that Carol was going to have a fit when they came back without her daughter. He was just trying to ease some of the guilt he felt at the thought of telling her that they had to leave her out there at night, lost and alone.

* * *

Dane wiped the sweat that was forming on his brow with the back of his sleeve. Laying down the shovel he stared at the hole he had dug. His brother's grave. Nothing more than a ditch at the side of the road. With his eyes closed he let out a long sigh.

"Let me give you a hand," Shane offered as Dane returned to fetch his brother's corpse.

"I've got it," Dane insisted. There was no energy to back up his words. The man was exhausted.

Shane reached down and grabbed Jason's feet and encountered no protest. The two men carried the body and laid it down in the grave. Carol pressed her lips tightly together as she watched the men work and prayed they would not be digging another grave that night.

Dale shifted his weight awkwardly. "Should we say a few words?"

"No. Not now," Dane said shaking his head. "Tom should be here." He meant River. It was rare he slipped up and referred to her by their nickname when talking to anyone but herself or his brother.

Shovel full by shovel full they buried Jason. Shane exchanged turns with Dane until the job was done. Everyone watched sadly not knowing what to say or do. Dane stared at the finished work, tears in his eyes.

"JJ wanted to be cremated," he said. "He wanted his ashes sent down the Muskwa River where he liked to fish." Dane's final words were spoken so softly they were barely audible, "I'm sorry, brother." He was sorry for everything.

 


	26. Saying Goodbye

 

Sophia was still missing. Her trail had gone cold. Not even Liam could track her. The small search party had resolved to retire for the night as there was no longer sufficient enough light to look for sign in the woods. Tomorrow they would mount a full scale search. In the mean time, Jason had been buried and it was time to say goodbye.

The sun was setting as the group of survivors gathered for Jason's memorial. The sky streaked with red and pink, the light fading quickly.

"I thought we could say a few words," Dale suggested as everyone congregated around the fresh grave. All eyes were on the ground as people waited for Dane and River to speak.

Dane stood teary-eyed, looking at the ground as he spoke. "I know to most of you my brother seemed shy and awkward, but given time he would have warmed up. I wish you all would have had the chance to see the real him, the same JJ that I saw," he paused, choking on his words.

"He was goofy, fun, and the most loyal friend you could ever ask for. He'd go to the end of the earth for the people he cared about without so much as a second thought. JJ always put his friends first."

River shuffled her feet, staring at her toes. How many times had Jason sacrificed for her? More times than she could count. It should have been the other way around. Now she would never have the chance to repay him.

Daryl stood back, leaning on an old, rusty Chevy. Just another truck in the graveyard. With his arms crossed over his chest he watched River out of the corner of his eye. Jason had been like family to her. It wasn't like he didn't have any idea what she was going through. Those same emotions had struggled to the surface when he thought his brother was dead, left to be Walker chow on some rooftop in Atlanta. He just didn't know what to say to her. Besides, he'd royally screwed it up earlier and doubted she'd ever want to talk to him again.

"To say that I will miss my brother would be a gross understatement," Dane continued. "I feel like a part of me, a huge part of me, has died. But you know what JJ's last words to me were?  _Life doesn't end just 'cause bad shit happens_. That's what I told him when our father hung himself, and I would be a hypocrite to think the same words didn't apply to me now." Dane's gaze briefly met with Andrea's, then she looked away.

Andrea thought back to the CDC. She was still angry with Dale. Him and Dane both expected her to feel guilty for wanting to end her life. With Dane and Jason she saw the old scars caused to those around a suicide. That's not what she wanted for Dale, who cared deeply for her and her sister. She just didn't know how to do it, how to keep on keeping on.

Dane turned to the grave and hung his head. "I love you brother."

"I think we were starting to see that side of JJ that Dane was talking about," Rick picked up where Dane left off. Shane nodded in agreement. "While I wish we all could have had that time to get to know him better, I also feel lucky that I got to know him at all. We won't forget him."

A few others said their goodbyes and some kind words. Still River was left sulking off to the side of the grave. Not a word had passed her lips.

"River, don't you want to say anything?" Dale asked encouragingly.

"He's dead. He can't hear me," River stated abruptly. Dane's expression grew pained. River was the only real friend besides him that his brother had had for most of his life, but he knew she would deal with his death in her own way and in her own time.

"It's not for Jason," Dale explained kindly. "It's for the rest of us. It's for you." Speaking about the dead was an important step in finding peace and closure. River turned and walked away.

Slowly the group dispersed. Next to the RV, Carl kicked around a soccer ball that Dane had picked up at the IKEA. He played by moonlight. There was no fire for fear that it would be too easy to spot on the highway. The rest of the group milled about in a somber mood. Many found places to sit, tensely counting down the hours until daylight.

"I think I'm going to hit the sack," Dane mumbled almost immediately.

"Really?" Lori asked. "It's so early." The reality was if she thought she could sleep, she would be doing the same.

Dale looked the young man over sympathetically. "It's been a rough day."

Dane nodded and stopped next to River. "Are you... Uh..."

"No. I think I'll crash out here with Liam tonight," River told him. Somehow the tent seemed too large. Too empty. The space where Jason would normally lay would haunt her.

"Okay. Goodnight Tom."

"Night Dane," River reached up and gave him a hug.

* * *

Daryl had been practically ignoring her since the incident at the IKEA store. River didn't know what to make of it. Finally she'd thought she knew what he was thinking, how he felt about her. Now she wasn't so sure. One thing for certain, she was determined to find out. She wasn't about to let Daryl Dixon push her away this time.

Casually she walked over to where he was perched, sitting on a stray tire that was laying on the road. River couldn't help but wonder how it got there. Had someone been changing a flat when they were attacked by Walkers, their spare just rolling away down the lonesome highway. Maybe the highway was packed back then. The hysteria and the masses taking to the roads hadn't entirely faded from her mind. She remembered how crazy it had been. How they thought they could wait it out by going camping. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. Things had changed so much since then.

River plunked herself down on the pavement next to him without a word. Daryl ignored her and continued cleaning his crossbow. Gently and meticulously he wiped down every nook and cranny removing any dirt or grime. River watched him as he worked. He was tense. She could see the knots in his neck and shoulders. Stress tension. River could only imagine the headache it was causing him.

They sat a long while in silence. The more time passed the more Daryl's eyes darted nervously towards River. "I hope ya ain't expecting no apology," Daryl drawled breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"'Course not," River replied in her mock southern accent. "God forbid Daryl Dixon say he's sorry."

Not sure what to make of her answer Daryl eyed her suspiciously. "Don't got nothin' to say I'm sorry for," he insisted. There was an in-congruency between his words and his eyes as he tried to convince himself he'd done no wrong. "Sophia was missin'. No point wastin' daylight sittin' an watchin' o'er some corpse while she's still out there," he explained. Damn her for making him feel like he had to justify himself.

River could accept that as apology enough. One step at a time with this southern boy. Closing her eyes for a moment she sighed. When she opened them River stared up at Daryl with her big green eyes. "Look Daryl, I don't expect an apology. I don't expect you to stop being a jerk," she told him.

Daryl winced. He knew what was coming. She was going to tell him how much she hated his guts. He deserved it. It was like Merle had always told him.  _Ain't no one gonn' want you. Whatcha got to offer? Nothin'. Sooner or later any bitch gonn'_ _realize that the truth._ He'd tried to protect her, and failed. The bruises hadn't even faded yet. River didn't need him to supply food or shelter. Didn't need him at all.

"I like you," River told him again, hoping it might sink in or he might give her some sort of reaction. "I'll take the good with the bad. But you know what?" she continued. "Just because I can take your shit, doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. Believe it or not, I do have feelings."

As Daryl quickly looked away, River caught a glimpse of something changing in his hardened face. Whatever he'd been expecting, whatever he'd been preparing for hadn't happened. He was taken off-guard and his face twisted as he tried to figure it out.

"Why?" Daryl asked. Why couldn't she just tell him he was worthless and she wanted nothing to do with him like every other woman he'd ever been interested in. Why didn't she hate him.

"Because I'm a human fucking being," River gaped at him. "And human beings have feelings."

"No," Daryl said. "I meant..."

River waited, watching him expectantly.

"Never mind," Daryl growled.

Frustrated, River sighed. "You've been cleaning that thing for hours," she observed, exaggerating slightly as she moved behind Daryl.

Daryl shifted his weight uncomfortably, trying to keep River in his peripheral vision. "So?"

River shrugged. "So, I think it's probably clean, eh?" she told him. "It's Sophia isn't it? That's what's got you in such a foul mood." Trying to get him to open up to her at all was like pulling teeth.

Daryl said nothing. That was part of it. River was also part of it. She stirred so many emotions in him that he couldn't name let alone know how to deal with.

"It wouldn't kill you to admit you care about what happens to her," River told him, shaking her head.

"She's jus' a little girl," Daryl confessed. "Ain't got no idea how to survive out in the wilderness." He'd been lost once. Only he knew something about surviving. Of course, when he'd been missing no one had went out looking for him. Maybe that's why he felt such a need to look for her. In finding Sophia he could fix himself.

"We'll find her," River said with certainty. "Hell, you're a better tracker than Liam and the rest of us combined. If anyone's going to find her, you will." Instead of relaxing at her calm and assuring words Daryl tensed further. River reached down, taking the mess of knotted shoulder muscles in her hand. Daryl stood up and wheeled around so quickly he startled River and sent her backwards onto her ass.

"Fucking hell, Dixon!" River shouted in surprise, gaining the unwanted attention of the rest of the camp. "What is wrong with you?"

All Shane saw when he turned towards River's voice was River on the ground and Daryl standing over her in an aggressive stance. The former deputy jumped up and was over to them before anyone knew what was happening.

"There a problem here?" Shane demanded.

"Nope." Daryl said, not taking his eyes off River.

"River?" Shane asked not willing to take the redneck's word for it.

River stood, dusting herself off. "Everything's fine, Shane."

Not satisfied, Shane grabbed River by the arm and pulled her aside. "Did that douchebag hit you?" he demanded. "Did he hurt you?" Shane had seen enough of Daryl's volatility and anger. As far as Shane cared to see it he took after his older brother Merle, the biggest douchebag of them all. It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if he'd gone after River.

Daryl stood up. "I can hear ya, ya know," he scoffed.

"Wasn't talking to you," Shane blew him off, his eyes not moving from River.

Disgusted by the accusation, River pulled away. "No. He would never." Daryl's mouth twitched upwards for just a second and he swallowed involuntarily.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Daryl glared. "Jackass. I ain't never hit a woman."

"How 'bout Merle, Merle ever hit a woman?" Shane taunted trying to get a reaction. Daryl's mouth pressed into a tight line and his face twitched. "I've had my eyes on you. You think I don't know you got the same temper as that racist white trash piece of shit brother of yours. Don't try and tell me you don't have it in you."

"That's not fair, he's not his brother," River jumped in.

"You would defend him," Shane sneered. "What you see in this asshole and his douchebag brother is beyond me."

"Daryl's a good guy. How can't you see that?" River asked. Daryl went out of his way to make sure the group ate. He was out there looking for Sophia. He kept watch and protected them. All for a group that had made it perfectly clear what they thought of him. She couldn't understand why Shane hated him so much.

Shane's eyes narrowed as they darted from River to Daryl and back again. "Fine, have it your way," he said bitterly. "But don't say I didn't warn you." With that he stalked off.

River stared after Shane as he made his way back towards the Winnebago. "What the hell was that about?" she asked finally, turning back to Daryl. He was gone.  _And I'm not even drinking this time_ , she thought to herself.

* * *

Daryl sat back with his hands behind his head. Carl had given up his game of soccer ages ago and gone into the Winnebago to sleep. The last of the grown-ups had finally retired too. Now it was just Daryl, alone on top of the RV. It was his turn to keep watch.

Stretched out under the station wagon with a sleeping bag and her dog was River. From where he was perched Daryl had a clear view. No Walker would be able to get to her without him seeing it first. Right beside him sat his crossbow. He was ready.

His mind kept drifting back to earlier. The things he'd said to her had been, while not untrue, callous. Yet River forgave him. She had faith in him. She had stood up for him. She liked him fine the way he was.  _I'll take the good with the bad_ , she'd said. Daryl ran a hand through his hair. Maybe Merle didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Maybe he ought to stop trying to push River away.

* * *

Yawning to the rising sun, River arched her back and stretched away sleep. When she went to sit up she bumped her head on the under side of the station wagon.  _Another lump to add to the collection_ , she thought as she rubbed her head. Although it was a new day, the constant gnawing emptiness in the pit of her soul remained. River wondered if it would ever go away.

Crawling out from her makeshift bed, she found the other's already organizing the search party. Daryl was in the lead. About time someone acknowledged his capabilities beyond just putting food on the table.

"Sorry, I slept in and no one woke me," River apologized as she joined the others. "What's the plan? When do we leave?"

"We thought you could use the rest," Rick replied.

"Well, I'm all rested now," River assured him.

"Actually, we thought it would be best if you stayed here with Dale and T-Dog in case Sophia returns while we're out looking for her."

River sleepily rubbed at her eyes. She must be more tired than she realized as what Rick was saying didn't make sense. "Well, if T-Dog and Dale are already staying there's really no point in me hanging around," she reasoned. "I'll be more use out searching with the rest of you."

"No," Daryl said firmly.

River huffed impatiently. "Pardon?"

"Yer not comin'."

"Why the hell not?"

"Lookit yerself!" Daryl shouted, growing frustrated. "Ya need to rest an' heal. Gonna go pull out those damn stitches runnin' around." His sharp blue eyes scanned the bruises still visible from when she was captured and his eyes lingered where he knew she was sewn up under her shirt. "'Sides, can't risk ya gettin' hurt again," he added more softly, his gaze averted from her.

River couldn't help but smile. "Hell Dixon, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me, eh?" She laughed but Daryl didn't think it was funny. The worst part was, it was probably true.


	27. Keep On Keeping On

 

Almost an entire day had passed since Sophia had gone missing. Somewhere out there in the woods she was wandering, lost and alone. The night would have left her cold, hungry and scared. If they were going to find her alive, they would have to pull it off soon. Each and every one of them knew that for every hour she spent out there her chances of being found alive became slimmer. Today they were almost all going to look for her.

River had been left behind in the care of Dale, who was fixing the Winnebago, and T-Dog, who was injured. Stunned by an admission from Daryl that he actually gave a damn what happened to her, River had let the rest of them walk away. Even Liam was on the hunt. Dane was taking the role of his handler.

"How much longer it gonna take to fix that hose?" T-Dog asked.

"What would you say if I told you it was all just pantomime?" Dale responded with a grin. River's ears perked up from where she sat leaning against the RV, shaded from the morning sun.

"Huh?"

"Pantomime," Dale repeated. "just for show. No one else needs to know"

"I don't get it man," T-Dog said, shaking his head. "What you trying to say?"

Dale continued to grin. "I had it fixed yesterday," he admitted. River's jaw dropped open, but she said nothing.

"What? Then what the hell we doing out here?" T-Dog demanded. Yeah, River would like to know that too.

"If the others knew we were mobile they might start wanting to mobilize. I'm trying to delay the inevitable needs of the few versus needs of the many argument for as long as I can," Dale explained.

So long as they couldn't go anywhere there was no reason for anyone to push to leave. It made sense. Not that she could really imagine anyone suggesting such a horrible thing as to leave Sophia behind. Still there was a growing itch inside of her to follow them and join in the search. They wouldn't be far.

T-Dog nodded with dawning comprehension. "That is one tricky hose," he colluded.

"Very," Dale agreed, his grin spreading.

River stood, shaking her head from side to side. "To hell with this!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to help look for Carol's daughter."

"River hon," Dale tried to soothe her. "You really need to rest and let those wounds heal," he advised.

"No, I don't need any of you telling me what to do!" River snapped. "What gives any of you the right to try and act the role of parent to me when you're playing games and lying to each other."

"Whoa now," Dale held his palms up and tilted his head to the side. "No need to over react. No one is implying that you're a child."

"Good. Then you'll not say another word when I walk out of here."

Dale pressed his lips firmly together in a tight line. "If that's what you want," he acquiesced. "Oh and River?"

She was already halfway to the highway when she turned around. "Eh?"

"You're not going to tell the others about the radiator hose, are you?"

River smiled at Dale. "Of course not, but you shouldn't lie."

"And just what do you propose we do then?" the old man asked her. "Soon enough if they don't find Sophia someone is going to start rumbling about how we need to move on."

"Then you just tell them it's too fucking bad, we're not leaving without her," River stated simply and turned, disappearing into the woods. Dale smiled and nodded. He liked her spirit.

* * *

Dane crouched down, using his feet to help pry open the conibear trap. He had to get it so he could compress the large springs on either side. The first thing he did was ensure that the safety latches were set on the springs. The last thing he wanted was that thing clamping down on his hand as he tried to set it.

"How do you know where you should put them?" Andrea asked. Her voice was a mix of curiosity and disgust. Daryl's hunting was one thing. She'd quickly accepted it a necessity that kept them fed. However, years of conditioning still told her trapping was bad.

Dane looked up from what he was doing. The last time they'd spoke he snapped at her following Jason's death. Andrea hadn't said a word to him since. Dane took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Come over here," he beckoned her over to the bank where he was crouched. "See this here," Dane said, pointing at some markings in the mud.

Andrea nodded. "What am I looking at?"

"Those are mink tracks," Dane told her. "The scurry along river banks in and out of the water. You can either set the trap where you see tracks, or you find natural little blind spots along the water's edge and set up there in hopes that it's somewhere they'll want to investigate."

"And they walk into the trap, just like that?"

Dane nodded. "Just like that."

"Don't you need some sort of bait. Like putting cheese out on a rat trap?"

"If you use the animals natural patterns and walkways, you can get away without bait a lot of times," he explained.

Shane came up behind Dane and Andrea. The two of them were hunkered on the creek bank.

"What are you two doing down here?" he barked at them.

"Dane was just showing me how he places the traps," Andrea answered.

"You really think you should be wasting time setting traps while we're out looking for Sophia?" he asked. It was obvious he wanted that girl found as soon as possible so they could get back on the road to Fort Benning.

"It only takes a minute to set them," Dane replied defensively. "I will check them on the way back to the highway after we find Sophia. If we're lucky, we'll have some meat for supper tonight."

Shane huffed and stalked off leaving them to it. Andrea caught Dane's gaze and rolled her eyes after him. Dane laughed as he drove two sticks into the bank to secure the trap.

"Better catch up before we get in any more shit from deputy Shane," Dane joked.

"Walsh," Andrea corrected.

Dane stared at her blankly. "What?"

"It's deputy Walsh," there was a hint of a grin on her face.

Dane nodded thoughtfully. "Of course it is. Wow. I can't believe I've been with you guys this long and I still only know most everyone by their first names."

"End of the world and all," Andrea offered.

"Yeah..." Dane trailed off. "C'mon, we better get moving."

"I think you're right," Andrea agreed. The two of them broke into a jog, closing the distance between themselves and the rest of the search party. "Dane?" Andrea called to him slightly out of breath.

"Yeah?"

"How do you do it?" Andrea asked. She stopped where she was and turned to face him. Her eyes were desperate, searching his for answers.

"Do what?" Dane asked.

"When Amy died, I thought my life was over. You just lost JJ. How do you do it?" she repeated. "How do you keep going?"

Dane took a moment to think. "You just do," he said, unable to find words adequate to explain. "Bad things happen all the time. You just have to hang onto the good and keep on keeping on."

"What if there's no good left?" Andrea asked earnestly.

"Then you find something."

"And if there's nothing?"

Dane sighed. "Then you're not looking hard enough."

* * *

River caught up with the rest of them just in time to hear the church bells ringing. Daryl was about to open his mouth and scold her for running around with her stitches, but at the sound of the noise he took off running. They all did. People. Other living people. Maybe they'd found Sophia. Maybe Sophia heard the bells too.

A church with no steeples. There was no bell. It was just a recording playing over a set of speakers. There were no people. Only Walkers graced the building. Some were sitting in pews, an artifact of their previous lives. It didn't take long for the group to dispatch them and clear the building, but Sophia wasn't there.

"Another dead end," Shane griped. Every where they turned they were running into brick walls.

The disappointment on Rick's face was clearly evident. The man was not ready to give up, however. "I want to stay here a while," he insisted. "Sophia might have heard those bells. She might come here."

After some discussion it was decided that the group would split up. Rick, Shane and Carl would wait in case Sophia came to the noise. The rest of the group would return to the highway. If need be, they would pick up the search in the morning.

"Where's Dane?" River asked as she looked around. The last time she'd seen him was when she'd first arrived and he'd handed Liam off to her.

"I think he went back inside," Lori answered.

River nodded a thanks and headed into the building. While Carol prayed openly, Dane knelt and spoke silently to God. River stood back and watched him curiously.

"Haven't seen you do that in a while," she commented when he looked up.

Dane frowned. "I always just assumed God knew what I had to say anyhow, and that he'd understand when there were always other things needing to get done."

River nodded, listening but not entirely understanding. God had never entered the equation when she was growing up, and religion was a fairly foreign concept to her. Although on rare occasion she would observe Dane and Jason, they had been far from devout.

"I think maybe God and I were well over due for a heart to heart," Dane admitted. "I just hope he's listening. I think maybe a lot of people would say he's not, given what's going on...," Dane trailed off. His own doubts were hard to miss.

"Maybe we're being punished," Carol suggested. "All of us. All of mankind for the evil we've done in the world."

Dane shrugged. "I guess that's always a possibility."

"Yeah," Carol replied meekly, her eyes flicking up to the statue of Jesus Christ. Silence fell between them as Carol thought of her own sins. The years she had prayed for her husband to die so that her and her daughter could be safe. It certainly felt like she was being punished now.

"So Tom, what's up?" Dane asked, slapping his knees. "I know you didn't come in here to talk to God."

"We're splitting up," River answered without pause. "Rick, Shane and Carl are going to wait here, the rest of us are heading back."

Dane nodded, "Alright then."

* * *

"Thought you was gonn' stay wit' Dale?" Daryl growled, coming up beside River as they made their way back to the highway.

River shrugged. "Changed my mind."

Daryl's eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down. "How yer stitches doin'?"

River pulled up her shirt to examine the wound that Dane had sewed up for her. The cut was weeping a bit, but it didn't look bad. "It's okay," River answered. "Doesn't look like its getting infected." The skin was naturally a little red and inflamed around it, but that was normal.

Daryl winced at the sight of the wound. "It hurt?"

"Nope," River lied.  _Not too much_.

* * *

Andrea fell back with Dane as he checked the traps. The first one was empty.

"What's going on with River and Dixon?" Andrea asked him.

Dane shrugged. "I don't think even River could answer that."

Andrea nodded. "Doesn't surprise me. It's hard to know anything with Dixon. He keeps to himself pretty much."

Dane stopped and stared. "What are you doing Andrea?"

Andrea's face fell slack. "What do you mean?"

"The small talk, the following me around... what's going on?" Dane demanded bluntly. "Are you hoping to buddy up and lull me into thinking you're doing better? I can't get you your gun back if that's what you're thinking."

Andrea took a step back, letting out a derisive laugh. "Is that what you think?"

Dane shrugged noncommittally, feeling a bit like an ass. "You're after everyone else about getting your gun back, or why they get one and you don't. So yeah, it crossed my mind."

Andrea exhaled and shook her head. "I can't believe you. You're just as bad as Dale," she said disappointedly. "What do you think I'm going to do. Put the gun in my mouth and pull the trigger the first chance I get?"

"You seemed pretty set on killing yourself back at the CDC," Dane said defensively.

"And if I wanted to, don't you think I could figure out a way to do it without a gun?"

Dane paused and mulled over what Andrea had just said. He hadn't thought of it that way. "I suppose you could..."

Andrea stared at him. Her eyes were sad, as she dipped her chin towards her chest and slowly shook her head. "You lost someone close to you too, yet you seem to have it so together," she explained. "I just thought maybe if I could figure out your secret then I could get through this."

Dane gulped. Yeah, he really felt like an ass now. "I'm sorry Andrea," he apologized sincerely, "I'd just assumed."

"Yeah, you and everybody else." Andrea stormed off and joined the others while Dane fell further back checking his traps and thankful for the distance between the two of them.

* * *

"Hey Andrea, where's Dane?" River asked when Andrea had caught up with them. Andrea gestured with her head back the way she'd came. Her facial muscles were tight. River cocked her head to the side a bit, wondering what had pissed her off this time. Andrea always seemed to be pissed off. Mostly it was because she wanted her gun back, River figured.

River back tracked until she'd found him. Her nose immediately wrinkled. "Don't tell me that's what we're having for dinner."

Dane looked up, surprised to hear her voice. "Oh, hey Tom!". He held up two sleek minks he was packing. There was a third one he was trying to wrestle from the trap he was currently at.

"Yuck!" River exclaimed, slumping down on the creek bank beside him. "That shit is disgusting. I haven't eaten mink, since, well since that first time I tried it."

Dane laughed. What else could he do. "I know, but any food is better than none," he reminded her. Didn't she know it. She'd shot a few wolves that were harassing livestock down the road before the Jackson's had taken her in and taught her how to trap and hunt properly. They were pretty awful too.

"Maybe Dixon's got some squirrel," she said hopefully.

"Doubt it," Dane told her. "He's been pretty intent on finding Sophia. I think if you want some squirrel you're going to have to go get it yourself."

River sighed. "It doesn't really make sense to waste a bullet on a squirrel. Not enough meat."

"Set up some snare poles," Dane suggested.

"The snare wire still in the jeep?" River asked.

"Yup."

"I might just have to do that then. After eating those mink tonight, everybody is gonna love me tomorrow," she grinned.

Dane looked down at his catch, a look of disgust crossing his face. "You're probably right." They both laughed.

"Dane?"

"Yeah Tom?"

"Will you watch Liam for me?" River asked. "There's something I need to do."

"What?"

"It's personal," was all River told him.

Dane studied her face. The grin had faded, replaced by a more somber, serious expression. She was waiting expectantly for him to answer. Whatever it was River needed to do, it was important to her. He just hoped she wasn't going to get herself into any trouble.

"Of course I'll watch Liam for you."


	28. Finding River

The search for Sophia hadn't gone well. The sound of church bells had got the search party's hopes up, but when they arrived at the church Sophia was not there. Carol and Dane had not been the only two who had turned to God for answers in the place of worship. Rick had begged for a sign, anything to let him know they were on the right track.

While Rick, Shane and Carl waited at the church for Sophia, Daryl led the others back to the highway. Andrea had looked to Dane for answers and River had left on a private mission. It wasn't long after that that they heard it. The crack of a gunshot, swallowed by the trees, but still discernible where they sat taking a short break.

Rick ran to his boy. Blood spilled from the wound in Carl's tiny body. Confusion, panic, and disbelief all swept over the father. One minute he had been watching his son walk up to a beautiful buck in awe. Its antlers were only recently regrown and still covered in velvet. His sign from God, he had thought. The next moment in a cruel twist of fate both Carl and the deer were on the ground, life slipping away from them.

"What have you done?" Shane barked at the woodsman standing and staring at them in shock.

"I didn't see him," Otis stammered. The boy had been behind the deer, hidden from his line of sight. The bullet must have travelled right through the animal before hitting the boy. "My god, I swear I didn't see him."

"We have to do something," Rick pleaded helplessly.

Otis didn't hesitate. "We have to get him back to Hershel. He's at a farm not far from here. He can help him." With that the three of them set off running. Rick could only pray that Carl wouldn't be dead before they got there.

* * *

When a strange woman showed up on horseback many were suspicious of her. Their experience at the IKEA was still fresh in their minds. However, when she dropped Rick's name and said that Carl had been shot, Lori didn't miss a beat as she went to go with her. No mother would.

While Lori rode back with Maggie, the others returned to the highway. The plan was to leave a sign for Sophia in case she found her way back to the highway. Then they would loop around to the farm of Hershel's where Carl had been taken and resume the search from there.

"Hey, ya seen River?" Daryl asked Dane. Seeing as he was babysitting her mutt again, it seemed like the logical choice

"Yeah, she asked me to watch Liam for her while she went and did something," Dane replied casually.

"Well tell me where she is an' I'll go git 'er."

For a moment Dane hummed and hawed. "I don't know where she is," he finallu admitted.

The glare that Daryl cast at him made Dane wither. "The fuck you mean you don' know where she is?" Daryl growled angrily. "Got 'er dog don'tcha? Didn'tcha think t' ask?"

The way Daryl said it made Dane doubt himself. Maybe he shouldn't have let her go. "She said it was personal," Dane stated. It was a weak argument and he knew it. But, River was an adult capable of making her own decisions.

Daryl grew increasingly impatient. His face twitched and contorted. "An you just' let 'er go on her own?" he spat, "She don' even have the mutt wit' her." Liam was like an early warning system for Walkers.

Dane swallowed. He'd thought little of it. Now doubt and uncertainty was crawling it's way up his spine. "Something like that," he muttered his gaze shifting to the ground.

Daryl swore profusely.

"When she comes back she'll see the sign we left for Sophia," Dale said assuringly. It did little to calm Daryl's agitation.

"To hell with that!" Daryl argued, "Soon as I git y'all to tha' farm I's goin' after her." No one dared argue with the Dixon.

* * *

Carol took one last look at the sign they had left for her daughter.  _Sophia stay here we will come every day._  How long until she was the only one coming back, she wondered. How long until the others gave up hope?

Daryl stood behind her and spoke softly. "Don' worry. We gonna find yer little girl."

Carol turned and offered him a weak smile. Daryl was the last person she'd expected to give a damn, but she was glad that he did. As rough as the redneck was, she felt a connection with him. That, and if anyone was going to be able to find Sophia it was their resident hunter and tracker.

"C'mon," Daryl encouraged her, gesturing with his head. His voice was low and calm. "We goin' now."

Reluctantly Carol let Daryl lead her back to the station wagon. With a nod he left her and led the way on Merle's bike. It wasn't far to Hershel's farm and they encountered no difficulties on the the road.

* * *

"Hey man, where do you think you're going?" T-Dog asked Dane as he slung his rifle over his shoulder and checked his ammo.

"Dixon's going to look for River. Figured I'd lend a hand."

"Great," T-Dog griped, "So Rick is occupied with Carl. Shane is gone with Otis to look for medical supplies. Now you and Daryl are both going to look for River, leaving who exactly to protect us here if another herd comes through?"

Dane frowned and chewed his lip. They really needed to train everyone how to use the firearms. This was no good having a handful of people capable of protecting the rest.

"Don' worry," Daryl told him. He had his crossbow and was ready to go. "I got this one."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Daryl parked Merle's bike next to the sign they'd left for Sophia. All the food and water was still there untouched. No one had been by. Somehow he'd let himself get his hopes up that she might be waiting there. He shook his head to rid himself of the negative thoughts floating around and took to the woods, backtracking to the last place he'd seen River with Dane.

Her tracks were not difficult to follow. Behind her River had left a trail of trampled grass, disturbed leaves, bruised vegetation and overturned rocks. It led Daryl steadily upwards away from the creek and into the hills. The path she left went almost straight upwards, only when the grade got steep would it weave back and forth as she climbed.

As far as he could tell from what he'd observed of the area coming in and the surrounding terrain the path she was making would go nowhere. If he was right, it would come out on a ridge overlooking more similar hills and the farms down below. River wasn't from around here and certainly wasn't familiar with the area to know those farms were there. What was she after?

As he neared the top the vegetation became sparser and the terrain more rocky. Consequently, River's tracks became more difficult to follow. When they disappeared, Daryl pushed upwards following the same direction of travel that she had been going the entire time. Every now and then he'd see a scuff mark or a snapped twig that gave him confidence that he was still on her trail.

* * *

Dane leaned back. He was perched on a lawn chair on top of the RV. His rifle rested across his lap as he scanned the perimeter of the farm for roaming Walkers. Dale had been good enough to lend him his hat. It was the only thing shielding his eyes from the sun and protecting his nose from getting sunburnt. He was thankful for it sitting exposed to the elements for so long.

"Hey Dane!" Andrea called up to him.

Dane stood and walked to the edge of the roof and looked over. "Andrea," he called back.

"Catch!" She tossed him a bottle of water. Dane reached out and grabbed it from the air with ease. "Thought you might be getting thirsty up there," she told him, blocking the sun from her eyes with her hand.

"Thanks."

"If you'd teach me to shoot, I could help out with look out duty," Andrea suggested.

Hadn't Dane been thinking pretty near the same thing earlier when T-Dog had complained about the lack of people able to defend the group. Hadn't she brought up a good point when they had their little heart to heart. If she really wanted to kill herself, she didn't need a gun to do it. Hell, his own father hadn't used a gun.

To her surprise, Dane answered, "That's probably not such a bad idea."

A hint of a smile crossed Andrea's face. Finally someone wasn't treating her like a child or walking on eggshells. Not that she was sure she wanted to live yet, but if she did, then Andrea wanted to know how to protect herself. She wanted to be useful to the group, and she didn't mean by doing their laundry.

* * *

Voices. Daryl stopped. Not voices. Just River's sobbing. He shifted his weight to his other foot and resisted the urge to clear his throat. The fuck was he supposed to say to her anyhow? Daryl hadn't the slightest notion what to do with a crying woman. Instead he stalked closer until he had River in view. Her back was to him. She slouched with her knees tucked up to her chest, head down. Even when he couldn't hear her, he could see as the sobs wracked her body causing it to convulse. At her side she clutched something tightly in her hand.

The rifle River packed around everywhere laid out on the cold, hard granite of the ridge next to her, easily in reach should a Walker attack. It was a Sako 85 Finnlight. A good choice for her, Daryl thought. Both an accurate firearm at long distances, yet extremely rugged and able to endure the rough mountains and forest she was used to hunting in. The .308 caliber was appropriate for most game, and definitely sufficient for killing Walkers. As an added bonus, the Sako weighed in at just over six pounds making it an excellent, lightweight weapon for her small frame. Daryl knew the difference even a pound or two could make. His crossbow was a youth model, lighter than its typical counterparts, and he wouldn't trade it for the world. It had done him well over the years.

The sobbing stopped. River stood up, still staring out over the hills. She placed whatever it was she was holding back into her pocket and turned around.  _Shit_. Daryl stood there awkwardly, now face to face with River across the ridge. No words came to his lips. He was caught red-handed watching her and had no idea what to say.

Blush crept up River's tear-stained cheeks. "How long have you been standing there?" she demanded harshly, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

Daryl squinted, chewed his lip and dropped his gaze to the ground. He was the picture of discomfort at that moment.

"Doesn't matter," River muttered brushing past him. It was time to head back to the highway and rejoin the others. They'd be up at first light looking for Sophia again. Pausing she turned back to look at Daryl. "What are you doing up here anyways?"

"Came to find ya."

"But I wasn't lost," River countered, scratching her head.

"Yeah well we ain't on the highway no more," Daryl snapped. "Thought ya might like t' know."

River looked puzzled. "Eh? Then where are we?"

"On some farm."

"What?"

Daryl exhaled sharply. "Am I speaking Chinese or some shit? I said we're on some farm," he repeated the frustration causing his constantly underlying anger to rise to the surface. "Not far from where we was," he added simmering back down a little.

"Seriously? For the love of God people!" River exclaimed. "I leave for a couple hours and you up and move camp on me?"

"Carl was shot," Daryl stated plainly, his voice quiet.

River swallowed, wishing she could take back her words. "What do you mean Carl was shot? Is he alive?" she asked, a hint of panic threading its way into her voice.

"For now."

A ball of dread formed in River's stomach. They'd already lost too many. Amy. Jim. Jacqui... Jason. Not Carl. He was just a child.  _For now_. That meant he was still alive. She'd focus on that. "How did it happen?" she wondered. How could someone shoot a little kid.

"Otis was huntin'. Shot himself a deer, 'cept Carl was standin' on th' other side," Daryl explained. "Bullet went right through."

Too much was happening all at once. River's brain was on overload. With her eyes squeezed shut she shook her head from side to side. "Who's Otis?" she asked of the unfamiliar name.

"Don' matter right now," Daryl said impatiently. "C'mon, gonna be dark soon."

River quickened her pace and fell in line next to Daryl as they made their way back down towards the highway. The rocky terrain near the top of the ridge was treacherous on the return trip. Loose rock made getting solid footing tricky at best and was a danger with every step. The two walked in silence, focusing on the task at hand and making it down safely.

"Carl..." River finally said once they were off the ridge. "How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," Daryl mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

River closed hers and took a deep breath. "Any chance he'll make it, you think?"

"Dunno," Daryl shrugged. "Hershel thinks he's gotta chance. Sent Otis an' Shane for supplies."

"Hershel?" Another new name.

"Some doctor or vet or some shit like tha', gonna try an' fix him up," Daryl explained.

River nodded, starting to put the pieces together. "So it's his farm?"

"Yep."

The two said little more to each other as they made their way down the hillside and back put to the highway. River paused in front of Merle's bike that Daryl had parked on the highway next to the sign for Sophia. Nervously she licked her lips as she stared down at it.

"What's wrong?" Daryl asked her. "Aintcha ever ridden a bike 'fore?" he snickered.

"No, actually, I haven't," River admitted. "Been on plenty of quads and snowmobiles," she paused, her eyes still glued in place. "It's just that, well... They've got wheels or tracks on both sides. How do you not fall over on that thing?"

"How's 'bout a bicycle?" He asked. River shook her head wondering how she missed such a basic milestone in a kid's development. Daryl snorted, a short laugh escaping his lips. "Damn girl..."

River shoved him lightly in the shoulder. "It's not nice to laugh!" she told him, barely able to contain her own laughter. Daryl immediately withdrew and River sighed. With her head tilted slightly to the side she watched him with a puzzled expression.

"C'mon," Daryl said, quickly covering up his reaction and hoping she hadn't noticed, even though he knew she had. He threw one leg over the bike and motioned for her to climb on behind him. "It ain't hard."

"Easy for you to say," River mumbled, crawling on reluctantly behind him. "You better not let me fall."

"Then ya best hold on tight," Daryl warned.

River looked around frantically for something to hang on to as Daryl revved the engine. "Wait!" she practically screamed at him. "What the hell am I supposed to hold on to?" She on the verge of tears and feeling extremely foolish for it. She was probably the last person left on earth who was afraid to ride a motorcycle.

"Here," Daryl said taking her hand and wrapping it around his chest.

Immediately River's fingers clenched tightly to his leather jacket, the one with the angel wings on the back. Her knuckles already white. "Ok," she murmured. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be." As the bike started to move River's muscles tightened further. She pulled herself in closer to Daryl, burying herself in his back. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she hung on for what she felt was dear life.

It felt right having River there with him. It felt good being able to be her safety net. Their proximity, bred of necessity, didn't make him as uncomfortable as it usually did. At one corner of Daryl's mouth his lips formed the faint curl of a smile. He'd found River and they were on their way back to his new family.


	29. Revealed

 

Sophia was still missing but the group had been forced to move from the highway to the Greene's family farm. After Otis had accidentally shot Carl while hunting deer, the young boy had been rushed to the farm. There Hershel, a farmer and veterinarian by trade, worked on him trying to save his life. While all of this was going on River was wandering through the woods, wrestling with her own demons.

By the time Daryl returned to the farm with River everyone was mostly settled in. The Winnebago was parked, tents we're put up, people were milling about waiting anxiously for news on Carl's condition. Rick and Lori were nowhere to be seen. Presumably they were inside the house with Carl and this Hershel character that Daryl had told River about.  
Waiting with Liam patiently by his side was Dane. As soon as the dog saw his master his tail began to wag furiously. As he strained against his collar, Dane was forced to let go. Liam may have weighed a solid ninety pounds, but when he wanted to go somewhere it felt more like two hundred.

River immediately dropped to her knees, absorbing the large dog's momentum with her body as he ran into her. "Hey buddy," she greeted him, fighting to get the words between the dog's slobbery kisses. "Missed you too."

Daryl snorted at the interaction and headed to his tent. The girl fawned over that dog. She loved the mutt. Even when she was mad at him she never struck the dog. A harsh word was the worst that Liam ever got and even that would quickly be replaced with praises and affection so soon as he smartened up.

Dane stood back almost sheepishly. Daryl's lecture was still fresh in his mind. "So...?" he asked, trailing off.

River looked up, meeting his hazel eyes. They darted guiltily from hers. "Well, what is it, eh?"

"Did you get your shit done?"

Shaking her head at Dane and chuckling River told him, "You really have a way with words. How come you're always so diplomatic with everyone except me?"

Dane laughed. "For Christ's sake Tom, we've been best friends for how long? It's one of the privileges I've earned."

"And I've earned the right to harass you anyways," River countered.

Steering her back on topic, Dane asked again, "Well, did you?"

As he pushed for answers River's demeanor changed. She became more somber, more serious. Her gaze dropped to the ground and she shook her head. "No." she answered quietly.

Dane frowned. "Anything I can help with?" River was his best friend in the entire world, and that wasn't just because everyone else he knew was dead. He would do anything to help her.

"Nope." Some things she just had to do on her own.

* * *

After Shane had returned without Otis, the days that followed passed much the same as each other. Carl was improving bit by bit. Each day his bullet wound was healing a little more. His mother continued to remain by his side most of the time. However, with the worst past, Rick had rejoined the search for Sophia. The deputy still felt bound to his duty, bound to help others in need.

Daryl had been enlisted to help organize the search. His tracking skills were proving to be indispensable. Essentially they had split the area into a grid and were working one square at a time. Each person or group was assigned their own quadrant and then marked it with cloth as they progressed. It was slow, but thorough. Still day after day they all returned empty handed.

Andrea and Dane were spending more time together. They were drawn together by similar pain and just seemed to gravitate towards each other. The two of them had partnered up for the search for Sophia. Dane had also arranged with Shane to teach the members who were less familiar with firearms how to shoot. Dane had become Andrea's personal coach and the woman was doing pretty damn good.  _A natural_ , he'd called her.

"I saw a flock of ducks yesterday, just before sunset," Dane told Andrea.

"Yeah, so?" Andrea replied, raising Dane's .308 calibre rifle that she was practicing with. Aiming it a hundred yards away at a tin can, she focused on her breathing and gently squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked back hard. "I'm gonna have bruises," Andrea lamented.

"Got to make sure you hold it tight in your shoulder," Dane reminded her.

"I am!"

"Well, I suppose that thing does pack a punch," Dane said, winking at the blonde. Pointing at Andrea's target he commented. "Would have been a dead Walker anyways." The tin can was knocked squarely off the fence on which it had been perched.

"Thanks," Andrea said, smiling confidently and taking a drink from her water bottle.

"Shooting a moving target is a little harder," Dane warned. A little of Andrea's new found confidence faded. "That's why we're going to go duck hunting tomorrow."

It was hard for Dane to think of going duck hunting without his brother. However, he came from a place where if you shut down and didn't carry on then there'd be no meat for the winter and you'd starve. Plus all of this work seemed to be helping Andrea in dealing with her own sister's death and to find her place in the world again. In a way they were helping each other.

"Couldn't be because you want a roast duck?" Andrea teased.

Dane laughed, "That too."

* * *

Evening after evening River disappeared into the hills, often returning with the last fading shreds of light. As the tail end of sunset would be wrapping up she would appear at the edge of the farm, emerging from the woods. Without a word she would head straight for Dane's tent to greet her dog. Liam would accompany her to the fire pit until it was time for bed.

River still couldn't bring herself to sleep in the tent she had shared with Dane and Jason. Not since Jason's death. It was too big, too empty and his spot was a painful reminder that he was gone.

The first night that she had curled up under the stars with Liam, Daryl had awkwardly gone to her and offered her to sleep in his tent.  _Don' wanna have t' clean up th' mess when yer gnawed on by one of 'em filthy flesh-eaters_ , he'd told her. River had smiled to herself, knowing it was his way of saying,  _I care_.

"Hey," she called out to Daryl as she approached the site at the edge of the farm where he had set up his tent.

He was sitting outside on a log gutting and cleaning squirrels. Without looking up he grunted in response.

"I'm heading to bed," River told him.

Every night she found herself wishing that the hunter would follow her into the tent and rip her clothes off. There was a longing deep inside her to see some of that passion he kept buried. Back at the IKEA when he'd come so close to losing her she'd gotten a glimpse of it and had hungered for it ever since. Now River found herself continuously disappointed and frustrated.

"Whatever," Daryl grumbled impatiently, sliding his hunting knife into the belly of another squirrel.

River stood there staring at the rough redneck. All of Daryl's shirts were without sleeves, something that she was secretly pleased about. It showed off his powerful shoulders and upper arms. He was sweaty, dirty, and covered to the elbows in blood and bits of squirrel. In his unpolished way Daryl was handsome, and there was no doubt in River's heart that she wanted him.

"Th' fuck ya starin' at?" Daryl growled when she didn't leave.

A chuckle escaped River's lips as she was brought back from her own thoughts by his harsh voice. "You, Dixon."

Daryl's face reddened and he dropped his gaze to the ground muttering uncomfortably under his breath. River grinned, walking over to Daryl and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. The hunter tried to pull away but she was too fast. Daryl grumbled, and River laughed lightly as she made her way into the tent.

"Goodnight, Daryl," she called back to him.

Once she was out of sight, Daryl lifted his eyes and stared uncertainly at the tent. What she saw in him was beyond him. Usually he retired back to the tent an hour or so after River went to bed and he could be sure she would be asleep. Tonight, though, he sat outside by the fire until the wee hours of the morning. At some point he would have to confront whatever it was that was going on between the, but he wasn't sure how to do that. Her kiss didn't make it any easier.

When Daryl finally retired to his tent, River was sound asleep. River's head rested on Liam's chest, rising and falling with his breath. The woman was curled up on the ground with the mutt. The spare cot that Daryl had dragged in for her, the one that had used to be Merle's, sat empty. Daryl slipped quietly by and crawled into the sleeping bag on his cot.

* * *

"Rise and shine," Dane greeted cheerily. He had let himself into the RV and stood at the foot of Andrea's bed.

Andrea rolled over. "Go away, I'm sleeping," she said, nestling her head back into the pillow.

"Not anymore," Dane insisted, flipping the covers. "Time to get up."

Andrea grabbed the pillow and chucked it at him as hard as she could. "Piss off," Andrea grumbled. Dane laughed as the pillow hit him and fell softly to the floor.

"Would you two be quiet," Glenn hissed from the other bunk. It was crowded inside the Winnebago. Dane whispered an apology.

"What time is it anyways?" Andrea asked groggily, rubbing her eyes. "It's still dark out."

Dane shrugged. They'd become so in tune to the natural rhythm of time up north. Out hunting and in the woods, clock time didn't matter. All that mattered was the cycles of light and dark, dawn and dusk, sunrise and sunset. There was time enough to eat and get set up for their duck hunt.

"I made breakfast," Dane offered, hoping it might encourage Andrea to get out of bed. He'd always risen earlier than Jason and River to prepare breakfast for them too.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Andrea grumbled as she stretched. Reluctantly she swung her feet over the edge of her bed. "I don't know how you hunters do it."

"You get used to it."

"Well, get used to it outside, would you?" Dale's voice carried through the darkness.

"Yeah, seriously," Glenn echoed.

Andrea chuckled, "I'll be right out before we have a mutiny on our hands here."

* * *

Daryl woke with the first light of dawn. Usually River was already up and about. He'd hear her sneak quietly off with Liam every morning before the sun came up. By breakfast time she'd already checked the traps that her and Dane had set. This morning however, she was still quietly curled up with Liam. Her eyes were shut and her breathing was the slow, even rhythm of sleep.

Daryl looked awkwardly around and spotted a clean, or rather, a semi-clean shirt. One that at least wasn't covered in bits of squirrel from the night before. Checking to make sure his tent mate was still asleep Daryl slipped out of his sleeping and grabbed for his shirt.

River peaked an eye open at the movement and let out an involuntary gasp. Daryl froze in place for a moment. Her eyes had settled on his muscular chest, his covered in thick ribbons of scars. Some had turned white, some were still a faded pink. River had seen one of his scars before, she recalled. Back at the CDC she had been confused by his reaction. Now she was starting to understand. The pieces were coming together.

"Th' fuck ya lookin' at," Daryl shouted at her, grabbing his shirt and quickly pulling it over his head.

River licked her lips and swallowed not knowing what to say. A deep sadness was overwhelming her and she just sat there speechless.

_See little brother, didn't I tell ya this would happen? She thinks yer disgusting'_ , Merle's voice filled Daryl's head as it swam and reeled.  _Who'd love you 'cept old' Merle. I mean, lookatcha._

Daryl started yelling at River, swearing and cursing and telling her to get out. Unaccustomed to his aggressive behavior, Liam hunkered down next to River and growled at the redneck. It was a low, menacing growl. With hackles raised, the dog was prepared for a fight. Chesapeake's weren't the type to start fights,must in Liam's mind Daryl had started it the moment the man yelled at his master. One thing for sure, though, even if a Chessie wouldn't start a fight, they sure as hell would finish it.

"Daryl, stop, please," River begged wrapping her arms around her dog's thick neck. "You're scaring Liam."

"Ya deaf or sumthin'? Take yer mutt an' git out," Daryl repeated, "I don' want ya here. I never wanted ya here. Jus' go."

River stared, perplexed by his over reaction and stung by his words. Part of her knew even then that they were said only in anger, hurt and embarrassment. Still, it hurt all the same. "Daryl..." River pleaded.

"Leave me be!" Daryl shouted, taking a threatening step towards her.

Liam bared his teeth and River stood up and hauled back on his collar. "Look Dixon," she snapped in frustration.

"Ya best git outta my tent," Daryl snarled, cutting her off. There was a low and dangerous quality to his voice as he took another step towards her. River strained to keep her dog in check. Liam was a solid, strong animal and he wasn't making it easy for her.

In response to Daryl's threat River stood taller. Her eyes still only level with his chest she was forced to look up at him. "Or what?" River fired back. "I best get out or what?" There was no fear in her big green eyes, only fire. Daryl could be an asshole, but she believe without doubt that he would never hurt her.

Daryl gritted his teeth, his face twitching and contorting. Or nothin'. There was no or else. Daryl slouched and turned away without another word.

Liam stopped growling and River let go of his collar. The dog immediately followed Daryl, nudging his hand with his wet nose. The man was no longer posing a danger in the dog's perspective. Now Liam was just confused. In no mood, Daryl pushed him away. The dog cocked his head and whined.

"He doesn't like fighting," River said calmly, resisting the urge to follow Daryl herself. "I'll go," she said quietly. Daryl needed space, and she needed time to figure out how to approach him.

* * *

The morning sky was a brilliant pink as the sun peaked up over the eastern horizon. It was a quiet, still morning in the abandoned corn field where Dane had taken Andrea. They weren't far from Hershel's farm, but it was so quiet away from the others it felt incredibly isolated.

"So up in Fort Nelson..." Andrea finally broke the silence that had dominated the morning.

"Shhh," Dane held a finger to his lips.

Andrea slouched back, leaning on the pack they had brought. Waiting in the blind Dane had hastily built was trying her patience. Not so much as a single bird had shown itself.  _Sit still. Be quiet. Wait_. Those were the words and phrases she heard over and over.  _Have patience._  Patience was one thing. Fishing took patience. At least out fishing she'd been able to chat with Amy. This was another thing entirely.

Just when Andrea was ready to throw in the towel on hunting, they heard it. Honking. The unmistakeable honking of geese. A flock was heading their way. Dane nodded at Andrea who fumbled with the shotgun. Jason's shotgun. A tear trailed down Dane's cheek as he thought of his brother and the dinner they had been planning for everyone.

Once she had a round in the chamber Andrea waited. As the waterfowl approached her muscles tensed like a snake coiling and ready to strike. Andrea itched to take a shot as soon as the birds were within sight, but Dane held a hand out to steady her. Wait. Each second that passed the birds flew closer. Finally Dane dropped his hand hand and Andrea stood, pointing the gun and taking the shot. A second shot. A third. No birds fell from the sky.

The flock had passed out of range and Andrea fell back to the ground in defeat. She felt like a failure. All those tin cans on the fence had meant nothing if she couldn't hit a large bird like a goose at twenty yards. In her mind, she'd let them everyone down: the group, Dane, and herself. The bigger question in her mind, was how would she kill a Walker that was not only moving but also trying to kill her.

A warm hand rested on Andrea's shoulder. She turned to see Dane smiling at her. "We'll go back to the farm and rig something up to practice," he promised her. "Tomorrow we can try again." There was no disappointment in his voice.

* * *

River had spent the morning looking for Dane. Finally she'd given up when Dale informed her that her friend was out hunting with Andrea. Seeing the disappointment mixed with despair on her face Dale had asked her if anything was wrong.

River shook her head. "No." Dale frowned and watched her from under his floppy fishing hat. "What?" she asked.

"Don't you think I've been around long enough to know when someone isn't being honest with me?"

River chewed on her lip. "I just wanted to ask him for advice on something."

"Might that something have to do with a certain Daryl Dixon?" Dale asked suspiciously. He winked at the young woman.

"It might..."

"Try me," Dale challenged. "This old man knows a thing or two."

River hummed and hawed. "We had a fight," she admitted.

"Couples fight," Dale noted, "That's not unusual and is to be expected, especially with someone like Daryl Dixon."

"Oh no, we're not together," River corrected him.

Surprise registered on the gentle grey-haired man's face and he raised an eyebrow at her. "You could have fooled me."

"Eh?"

"Well for one, you're sharing a tent," Dale pointed out. "And let's be honest here, Daryl usually isn't one for enjoying people's company just for the heck of it."

"So?" River laughed. For whatever reason she had gotten along well with both the Dixon's when no one else seemed to. That alone didn't mean anything.

"The way you two watch each other."

It was no secret that River liked Daryl. The woman made little attempt to hide her feelings or worry about who was watching as she stared after her favorite redneck hunter. However, she never knew what to think about Daryl's feelings. With the exception of his anger, he kept them bottled up

"He watches me?" River asked in amazement.

Dale chuckled. "Of course he does."

A smile spread across her face. "There is hope for me yet."

 

Dale pressed his lips together as he studied the girl. There was a sadness, but also hope in his soft eyes. "What was it you were fighting about?" he prodded gently.

River gnawed on her bottom lip as she mulled over how to explain to Dale what her problem was. "I try to get close to him and he pushes me away," River complained.

"We are talking about Daryl here," Dale reminded her. That much should be obvious. The redneck wasn't the touchy-feely type.

River stared at the old man with a pained expression on her face. "I think maybe I got too close and now he's really pushing back," she tried to explain. It wasn't her place to tell the others what she had seen in the morning.

Dale thought it over. "Give him some space," he told her. She could imagine those exact same words coming from her best friend's mouth had Dane not been out hunting with Andrea. "I don't think Daryl is used to having normal relationships with people. If you push too hard you might lose him forever," he warned.

"But if I don't push then I might as well give up hope of anything everhappening between us."

"You're going to have to take baby steps with Daryl," Dale told her. "Don't try and move too fast." It was the best advice that he could offer her, and it was exactly what she needed to hear.


	30. Business As Usual

 

River thought all day about what Dale had said. _I don't think Daryl is used to normal relationships with people_. The man had wisdom and insight beyond what she'd given him credit for. Part of her wished that she could have asked him more. Deep down she knew he had more good advice to offer.

"Well, River. I think this is the most we've seen you around the farm," Rick commented as he passed by on his way to the well.

River looked up, suddenly embarrassed that she hadn't heard him approach. If he had been a Walker, she'd be dead. Of course, had he been a Walker, Liam would have warned her. Of that she had no doubt. The dog never failed to warn, she only ever failed to listen.

"Yeah...," River trailed off, biting her lip. She didn't know what to say. She knew she should be out looking for Sophia. It was bad enough that so many were already slacking off at the task. Daryl seemed to be the only one who was still committed to the idea that they would find her alive.

Rick's eyes lingered on River. The young woman wasn't her characteristic self. "Everything alright?" The years of police training and experience interviewing witnesses and victims he had received didn't disappear over night. His question came across with just the right amount of concern in his voice.

"Just having a rough start to my day," River muttered miserably.

Rick frowned, not taking his eyes off of her.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," River quickly choked out once it hit her. "Shit, I... Hell, I have no right to complain. With everything you and Lori have been going through with Carl and Carol with Sophia being missing..."

A small, sympathetic smile crossed Rick's face. "We're all entitled to our problems," he told her. "Yourself included."

"I need to get out and kill something," River muttered under her breath. Normally by now she would have been out and checked the traps, had breakfast and started searching for Sophia. The morning fight with Daryl had rattled her and thrown her off, now she was feeling increasingly restless.

"Excuse me?" Rick said, sure he couldn't of heard her right.

A grin spread across her face. "I just mean, I'll feel better if I do something normal and get out hunting for a bit," River explained.

"Of course that's what you meant," Rick said, but River could see that he breathed a sigh of relief. A laugh escaped her lips.

* * *

Daryl quietly returned to the farm. Another day of searching for Sophia had proved unproductive. The hunter sulked past his tent and slipped into the barn. There we too many people he didn't want to face. He couldn't bear the look of disappointment that would certainly be on Carol's face. Then there was River... There wasn't enough space in the universe to get the kind of distance he needed from her.

Daryl sat, tucked away amongst the bales of hay. It was dry and dusty inside the barn and smelled of horses. Leaning against the rough wooden walls he passed the time sharpening his knives and carving new bolts for his crossbow.

Dale moved with purpose. The plate of food balanced in his hands was still steaming. The old man made hits way steadily to the barn, halting just outside suddenly unsure of his decision. If the redneck hunter was in a foul mood, which he most likely was, Dale hardly wanted to be on the receiving end of his attitude. For a moment he contemplated turning around and returning to the farmhouse.

However, Daryl had been better as of late. The man was still angry and volatile. Yet a new side of him was coming out, becoming more obvious as he searched for Sophia. The hunter was finding is place amongst the group, earning their respect, and developing a loyalty towards them. Dale wanted him to know that he belonged.

With a deep breath, Dale slid the barn door open and tentatively stepped inside. He was immediately hit with the dusty smell of hay and horses. Towards the back he could see the crouching figure of Daryl Dixon.

"Whatcha doin' here ol' man?" Daryl growled. He was not happy to be disturbed. The whole point of coming out to the barn had been to find some peace and quiet away from the others.

"I brought you some food," Dale told him. With his arms outstretched he held up the plate like a peace offering.

Daryl kicked at the layer of dust covering the wooden floor. "I ain't hungry," he finally replied, pausing to gnaw on his thumbnail.

"Somehow I thought you might say that," Dale admitted, shifting his weight but making no move to leave the barn.

Daryl watched him, his eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits. "Got sumthin' else ya want ta say to me?" he asked when Dale didn't leave.

"You don't need to hide out in the barn," Dale said simply.

Daryl scoffed. "The hell ya talkin' 'bout ol' timer?"

"River's not even on the farm," Dale assured him. "According to Rick she headed off hunting hours ago. You're avoiding a ghost."

"Whatever," Daryl said dismissively. "'S not like I even give a damn."

"River came to me."

Daryl's heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. Dale's words were hanging in the air between them. "Tha' dumb bitch gotta learn t' mind her own damn buisiness," Daryl snarled.

"She said the two of you had a fight," Dale pushed a little further. With every word he was acutely aware that Daryl could lash out at any moment. He was like a snake coiled and ready to strike. Every muscle was taut and ready to strike.

"What's it to ya?" Daryl snapped.

Dale sighed, his chest deflating as he shook his head slowly from side to side. "It wouldn't kill you to make a human connection once in a while."

Daryl growled at Dale with a ferociousness that caused the older man to retreat a few steps with uncertainty. "Best mind yer own business too," Daryl warned.

* * *

The flames from the small fire in the fire pit licked up towards the black night sky. The stars were bright but the near new moon cast little light over the surroundings. It was the sort of darkness that could hide your features and make it easier to speak honestly.

"I remember when we were younger," Andrea said softly to Dane, "Amy and I had been inseparable. Then I got older, and I didn't want her following me and my friends around anymore," she admitted shamefully. "You know how teenagers are. I'm sure you went through the same thing with JJ."

"I never really had the chance," Dane told her. "After our father killed himself it was up to me to raise him. I wasn't going to let them take him into foster care, not after what had happened to Tom. I was old enough, so the courts let me take custody of him."

Andrea placed her hand over top of his. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Dane told her, pulling his hand away and curling his fingers into his palm like a tiny, loose little fist.

Andrea felt stung, but tried her best not to show it. Cocking her head to the side, she let her blond pony-tail spill over her shoulder. "Why do you call her Tom?" Andrea asked curiously. If she were to be honest with herself, she was a little jealous of the bond Dane and River shared.

Dane told the story through mixed tears and laughter. At the time Jason had been a young child and River had been stowed away in their barn. Back then she had still gone by Autumn. Autumn River Thomson.

"Tom Thomson," Dane chuckled to himself. A simple name misheard, and here they were over a decade later still calling her Tom.  _Here he was. Jason would never call her Tom again_ , he reminded himself. His brother was dead.

"The three of you were close," Andrea reflected.

"Like family."

"You took care of both of them," Andrea noted. "You're a good person, Dane."

Dane nodded. It seemed he was always taking care of people.

"I wish that I had been there the same way for Amy," Andrea said, her voice sorrowful and full of regret. "I was so busy and always figured there would be more time. I missed so much. It took the end of the world to bring me back to her."

"You were there for in the end," Dane comforted her. "She knew how much you loved her." Having seen the two sisters together he would never have guessed that they had ever drifted apart.

"I hope so," Andrea said. Her voice was distant as she got lost in her thoughts.

River appeared, as she did every night, walking out of the forest at the edge of the farm. Dane spotted her and jumped up to meet her. Dangling by the back legs from her hand were two rabbits. Her rifle was slung over her shoulder.

"Waste of ammo for so little meat, don't you think?" Dane asked her, grinning from ear to ear.

"What do you care what I do with my ammo?" River shot back.

Dane raised an eyebrow. "Your ammo?"

"Yup. My ammo," River repeated. "You know. What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine and all," she giggled.

"Jesus Christ," Dane moaned shaking his head, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face. "I don't give a damn what you choose to do, but we're going to have to think about going on a supply run soon," he told her.

Dane's demeanor had changed. Clearly he wasn't looking forward to the prospect of going into a town. Things had changed since Jason's death. He was more leery of the former areas of civilization than he had been before. The Walkers were nothing to laugh at anymore.

"Well, maybe not quite yet," River said, her grin spreading as she bumped him with her hip. "Snared them," she told him proudly, her grin becoming completely contagious.

"Nice job!" Dane beamed at her. Trapping had not come as naturally as hunting for the young woman. Slowly she was catching on and relying less and less on him to help her with it.

"So Tom," Dane hedged. "Mind if we borrow Liam tomorrow morning?" he asked, gesturing back to where Andrea was left sitting by the fire.

"Weren't you out duck hunting this morning?" River asked, recalling her conversation with Dale earlier in the day.

Dane nodded. "We were."

"Why didn't you take Liam with you then?"

Dane said nothing. His face scrunched up as he glanced back at his new hunting partner.

A grin spread across River's face. "Oh, of course," she said, reading her friend easily. "You knew Andrea wouldn't get anything." Dane shrugged noncommittally and River knew she was bang on. "Sure, you can take Liam tomorrow. He'd be as happy as a pig in poop to spend the day duck hunting."

* * *

A hint of movement in Daryl's peripheral vision caught his attention and caused him to look up. Shit. River was back on the farm. He should have just stayed in the barn. Damn, Dale anyways. Daryl scanned quickly, considering his possible exits.  _Fuckin' pansy_ , Merle's voice filled his head. _What would pa say, runnin' a way from a lil' girl like some sorta faggot?_  Daryl swallowed hard, choosing to stand his ground.

River glanced up as she made her way to the tent and caught Daryl looking at her. Their eyes locked and she stopped in her tracks. Those icy blue eyes could bore into her soul. If only he knew the effect they had on her. Her pulse quickened and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears.

"I'm heading to bed," River told him, struggling to keep her voice steady. It wasn't an easy task. First of all, she had to contend with the fear that Daryl would only continue to push her away and she'd lose him. On the other hand she had the hormones coursing through her veins urging her to throw herself at him.

Daryl swallowed, not taking his eyes off of her.

River bit her lip, staring back with her big green eyes. They were a sea of sadness as she watched him longingly. Baby steps, she reminded herself. Quietly she walked over, leaning in and giving Daryl a quick gentle kiss on the cheek. Business as usual, she didn't want him to think what had happened in the morning had changed anything. She didn't want him to think that what she had seen changed how she felt about him for a second.

"Goodnight Daryl," she whispered.

River's warm breath on his neck caused a shiver to run down his spine. Daryl tensed. Every muscle in his body became still, rigid. His own pulse was racing. His own heart beating so loudly in his chest he was sure she must be able to hear it.

River hung there a moment, her eyes trailing his face, trying to make out what he might be thinking. Finally she turned and retired to the tent, same as she had night after night since they had arrived on the farm. In her heart though, she knew that things were going to be okay. Tomorrow she would figure out how to talk to him. There were some things they needed to work out.


	31. Man Down

 

The morning sun peeked over the eastern horizon, gently warming the tent and evaporating the dew that had settled overnight. Birds chirped outside, happily pecking the ground in search of worms. River stretched, thinking it could be any morning. Instead of the dead rising to eat the living, she could walk out of that tent, strap on her rifle, and go stalk whitetails through the timberline. Of course, it was still the end of the world and she knew that. It just didn't feel like the end of the world. Things were so quiet on the farm.

The spare cot that Daryl had dragged in for her wasn't too shabby. Normally it sat empty. Typically River curled up on the ground with her dog. Hunting in the back country had taught her to do without the little luxuries in life. Not only did she have to pack everything she needed on her back. She also needed to be able to pack out her game after a successful hunt. Sleeping on the hard ground with Liam was familiar and comfortable. However, she had left the Chessie with Dane for the night so she might sleep in. There was no reason she needed to be woken pre-dawn as Dane and Andrea prepared for their duck hunt.

Groggily she rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes. Opening them River was surprised to find the muted light of morning shining through the tent fabric as she laid on her back and stared at the ceiling. It took her a moment to recognize the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, and a moment more to place where it originated. Daryl Dixon. Everything complicated in her life seemed to start and end with that redneck hunter.

River closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. The image of Daryl's chest covered in scars was etched in her eyelids. Somehow she had to make him understand that his past didn't change how she felt about him. Somehow she had to convince him that she wouldn't let him push her away anymore, not over that, not over anything.

"Hey Dixon, we gotta talk and I'm not taking no for an answer. You know I'm as stubborn as a mule, so you might as well just go along with it..."

River stopped and waited for the protest. She waited for him to grunt dismissively, to scoff at her, or to utter insults in an attempt to take the focus off of himself. Mentally she was prepared for any of that, but wait as she might, nothing came. Her words were greeted by nothing more than the eerie stillness of an empty tent.

Glancing across at the other cot River was not surprised to find it unoccupied. "Son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath. Daryl had managed to slip away while she slept.

River pulled on a pair of jeans and what once had been a white t-shirt. Long since had it turned grayish and become covered in dirt and stains. Once upon a time the shirt had belonged to Dane and it hung loose on her much smaller frame. The bold print on the front read:  _When I'm not out trapping beaver, I'm stalking cougar._  Below it was the logo for the BC Trappers Association. River had laughed till she cried the first time she'd seen it and the shirt had been a favorite of hers ever since.

"G'mornin' sunshine," Shane greeted her. The man, resembling less and less the deputy he once was, tipped his head towards River as she made her way out of the tent and towards the others milling about the farm.

"Good morning," River said, scratching her head and wondering just how much she'd slept in. It wasn't often that she was the last one up, unless of course there were large amounts of alcohol involved. As the memory of their first night at the quarry camp came back to her, River shuddered.

"There's scrambled eggs if you'd like," Lori offered. "Maggie brought us a bunch of eggs from the chicken coop." The Greene's were being very gracious hosts. At least until Carl was strong enough. Then they would have to move on.

Lori's words fell on deaf ears. There was only one thing concerning River that morning. "Anyone seen Daryl?" she asked.

"He left first thing," Dale informed her. "Took one of Hershel's horses." Great. There was no way she would be able to catch up to him if he was on horse back.

River let out a long and melodramatic sigh. "Why does it feel like he's avoiding me?" she grumbled, her posture slouched as she slopped a scoop full of eggs onto her dish. They had the brilliant orange hue of fresh, organic, eggs rather than the pale yellow often found in the store bought variety.

"We are talking about Daryl here, right?" Lori asked bemused as she looked up from the fire pit where she was cooking the last of the scrambled eggs. The pan was resting precariously on the grate.

"The one and only," River said, rolling her eyes. In the back of her mind she was hoping the pan wouldn't tip, spilling the rest of the eggs down onto the burning embers of the fire, lost forever.

Dale studied the young woman intently. "What did you say to him?" he asked with a certain amount of suspicion in his voice.

Holding her hands up in innocence River replied, "Nothing, I swear. I followed your advice."

"Somehow I doubt that," Dale mused, rubbing his chin. River seemed more the kind to do exactly what she wanted regardless of what advice she was given.

River's shoulder's dropped, her arms hanging limply at her sides. "Fine. I was trying to take your advice," she corrected herself, realizing that the old man could see right through her. "I swear I didn't say anything to him though. I was going to talk to him this morning," she admitted.

"Did I miss something?" Lori asked, becoming intent on the conversation. "Are you and Daryl a couple now?"

"Hell if I know what we are," River said, exasperated. The topic was a touchy subject for her. She knew what she wanted to be: Daryl's friend, his lover, his partner. Whether or not the rough man would ever let her be any of those things was another question entirely.

"One step at a time," Dale reminded her. "You can't rush this with him."

"Daryl doesn't really seem the relationship type to me," Lori commented. Her words were like a punch to River's gut.

Dale cast a sharp look at Lori, who seemed to catch on that maybe that hadn't been the most encouraging thing to say to the young River. "Don't give up," Dale insisted. "He's different around you."

"Oh don't you worry," River assured him. "I'm not about to give up now."

* * *

Andrea and Dane had returned to the rough blind that the trapper had hastily built the day before. It wasn't much. A few branches and a handful of corn stalks arranged to hide them from view of the birds. Nothing pretty, but it would do. The two of them crouched, hidden in wait. Every muscle in Andrea's body was taut and ready to spring into action as soon as the birds came.

"You may want to relax," Dane suggested, reaching a hand out and placing it on her tense shoulder. "Sit like that long enough and your muscles are going to seize. When a bird does fly by you wont be able to move."

"Right," Andrea whispered, sinking back into the blind an consciously relaxing her muscles.

All of this hunting stuff was new to her, and she was eager to learn. It had become about more than just getting her gun back. It had become about what she could do for the group. She wasn't about to sit around doing laundry and cooking their meals. No, she'd rather be out there killing Walkers and bringing back game for the dinner table. That's how she'd prove herself. Andrea was no homemaker.

It wasn't long before Dane whispered "Here they come."

Andrea strained to hear the honking of incoming geese. "I don't hear them," she breathed, barely loud enough to be heard. Then she noticed that Dane wasn't paying attention to the sky at all. Those hazel eyes of his were on Liam, who had suddenly become alert, his ears perking up and his face to the sky. No wonder they hunted with the dog.

Andrea raised the shotgun, feeling it's weight as a part of herself. In a fluid motion she followed, pointing the gun just in front of her target. Without interrupting that movement she squeezed the trigger causing the gun to kick back with a sharp jolt into her shoulder. The pain didn't even register as she watched the large goose, tumble from the sky.

"Great shot," Dane congratulated her. The young man was grinning proudly from ear to ear.

"Thanks," Andrea replied, unable to take her eyes off of the spot where her bird had fallen. "What do we do now?"

"We get you your bird," Dane told her. Turning from Andrea he ruffled the fur on top of the Liam's head. "Your turn bud," he spoke softly to the dog.

Next to them Liam stood, his muscles twitching with anticipation. His ears perked up and alert waiting for his favorite phrase, the one that released him to do what he was bred to do. As soon as he heard Dane's voice utter the words "Liam, dead bird!" the Chesapeake was off and running. His feet barely touched the ground as the dog barreled out into the field after his mark.

"Good dog!" Dane praised him as the dog returned and deposited Andrea's kill at their feet. "In my hand," he told the Liam, holding an outstretched palm. Obediently the dog picked up the goose and shoved it into his handler's hand.

Andrea watched, observing Liam with amazement. "Smart dog," she commented.

"River trained him well."

"I'll say."

"Well, let's get back in the blind and see if we can't get a few more," Dane suggested. Pumped up by the thrill of the hunt, Andrea was not about to disagree. By the time that Andrea and Dane returned from their hunt, she had accumulated three geese and a wood duck.

It wasn't the meat Andrea packed out that was the most valuable thing she had achieved that day. Rather it was the bolstered confidence and the knowledge that she could feed herself and the group. There was a slight shift in her understanding of the world. Things made more sense than they had since the Wildfire outbreak.

"Hey Dale!" Andrea hollered proudly as they returned to the farm. "Look what I got," she called, holding her kills up so he could see them from where he was perched on top of the Winnebago.

"Well well, wouldn't you know it," Dale spoke, his voice brimming with pride. "You're turning into quite the little hunter."

"I've got a good teacher," Andrea smiled and turned to Dane.

"Nah, you're a natural with a gun," Dane told her. "Anyone could have taught you take those skills and hunt with them."

Dale frowned. "You're being too modest."

"You've been up there all day," Andrea said of their lookout. "Why don't you come down, let me take over for a while," she suggested.

Dale hummed and hawed uncomfortably. Although he knew he couldn't protect Andrea forever that didn't make it any easier to let go. The thought of her alone with a gun didn't sit well in his stomach. Behind her Dane nodded encouragingly to Dale.

"Oh alright," Dale finally relented. Removing the floppy hat from the top of his greying head, he held it with an outstretched arm. "Take this at least, wouldn't want you getting sunstroke."

Andrea rolled her eyes dramatically at the over protective man. "Yes sir," she teased, snatching the hat out of his hand

The corner of Dane's mouth curled up into a smile. Progress. Although why he cared so much about it when it wasn't his own was beyond him. "I'll go pluck and clean these for you," he offered.

"Thanks Dane."

"No problem. You'll be busy keeping us all safe."

"No, not just for cleaning my birds." Andrea said softly. "For taking me out and teaching me to hunt. For being a friend."

Her eyes met his and they stood there locked in each other's gaze. Dane realized then how much he had needed her too. Since Jason's death Andrea was the one person he felt he could relate to. The one person who really understood what it was like to lose your sibling and the part of you that died with them. He nodded before taking off to process the birds, unable to think of anything to say. Everything that came to mind seemed to fall short.

The afternoon passed uneventfully. As the day droned on Andrea found it harder and harder to stay focused on the perimeter. Slowly but surely her mind started to wander. Thoughts of Amy, no longer crushing, but bittersweet filled her mind. Tears stung her eyes and she willed herself to think not of what she lost, but of what she had in her life now. It was hard to see anything worthwhile out of the situation they were in. Hard to find anything worth living for.

A previous conversation with Dane echoed in her head, bouncing around inside her skull:

_"What if there's no good left?"_

_"Then you find something."_

_"And if there's nothing?"_

_"Then you're not looking hard enough."_

It wasn't all bad, she supposed... Although it was a stretch. She had people around her who cared. Dale was almost like a father to her. Dane was fast becoming a mentor and friend. Hunting with him seemed almost normal, like they could take a step away from all the craziness around them and do something sane. She could understand why the group of Canadians had held so strongly to their roots. It wasn't all about food, it was about being grounded in something that made sense.

The hint of movement across the field caught in Andrea's peripheral vision interrupted her train of thoughts. A silhouette of a Walker stood wavering in the middle of the field. It was already a good twenty-five yards from the tree line. Andrea kicked herself for getting lost in her thoughts and not spotting it sooner.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as Andrea fumbled to ready her rifle. She raised the rifle and chambered a round, just like she'd practiced. "This should be easy," she breathed quietly to herself. "It's moving nice and slow." Through the scope it was hard to make out more than the monstrosity's outline and crooked gate. The glare of the sun obscured the details.

"It has to be a Walker," Andrea told herself, her finger hovering over the trigger. "There's no way it's not." As she exhaled she gently squeezed the trigger. To her relief she saw the Walker fall. That relief was quickly replaced by panic as her awareness returned and she heard Rick's and Dane's voices shouting and yelling above the commotion. As she tried to process what had just happened her head swam.  _If that wasn't a Walker..._

* * *

River returned to the farm. Slung over her shoulder was a string with the tiny bodies of half a dozen frogs dangling from it. For all the time she spent in the bush, when she had first observed Daryl carrying his squirrels the same way River couldn't believe she'd never thought of it. As an adornment it may be a little grotesque, however it was a handy little trick.

"Well aren't you the great white hunter," Shane snickered as River appeared with her measly catch.

River shot him a glare that made his blood turn cold. "Shut it asshole. I don't see you bringing back any food for the group lately," she snapped back. Her patience was short. It wasn't Shane's fault, River knew that. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, so to speak.

"Whoa, easy tiger," Shane said, holding up his palms in surrender. "I was just messing with ya. No need to turn all feral now."

River tossed the frogs down in front of Lori. "All gutted and cleaned already," she told her. The meat was the same pinkish-white color of chicken breast. Frogs weren't bad eating, there just wasn't much meat on them.

Lori nodded, picking one of the little critters up by the tip of it's foot. It's tiny body dangled, swinging lightly back and forth from between her thumb and forefinger. "Thought you only ate the legs?"

"Waste not, want not."

"Got any suggestions on cooking them?" Lori asked, her eyes intent on the backwoods girl.

"I always used to dip them in some raw egg, batter and fry 'em," River offered.

"Oh I see how it is," Shane snorted. With his thick arms crossed over his broad chest he grinned at Lori. "I bring back frogs and it's all 'eww, frog's legs.' River brings back the same damn thing and you're ready to play gourmet chef over here," he teased.

Lori laughed. Those days spent at the quarry camp catching frogs and picking mushrooms while they waited for Daryl to return with some real game seemed so far away. It felt like years.

"Yeah we'll maybe..."

The sharp, unmistakable crack of a gunshot rang out. Everything stopped, their words caught in their throats as they looked to each other. Their eyes all begged the same question.  _What was that?_

"Walkers!" Shane gasped, grabbing his rifle and running toward the sound.

Lori turned quickly. "Carl! Carl, get in the house!" the mother called out desperately.

River turned and was on Shane's heels, her own rifle in hand. If Walkers were attacking the farm, she wasn't going to miss out on the action. After what had happened to Jason those creeps had it coming.

Something wasn't right. An off feeling slammed River in the chest as her eyes darted quickly over the scene before her. Dane was running back, not to her, but to Andrea. Rick was bent down lifting something, someone up. Shane had stopped to help his former partner. River froze dead in her tracks. Inside her chest her heart skipped a beat.  _That wasn't, that couldn't be..._

"Daryl!" River screamed as she started running again. "Daryl!"

Rick looked up, his sad eyes meeting hers. "He's been shot," he told her in as calm of a voice as he could muster.

Underneath her, River's legs crumpled at the sound of Rick's words. Her breaths came out in choking sobs as if she'd forgotten the very fundamental skill of how to breathe. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. The whole world spun as she struggled with the news her heart and soul didn't want to accept.

"Oh no you don't," River cried out at the limp body the two men were carrying. "Damnit Dixon! I love you" she hollered, her voice hot and raw with emotion. The words escaped her lips before she even realized what she was saying. "You better not fucking die on me, you bastard. You can't die."


	32. Walking Wounded

 

The news hit her like a ton of bricks. Daryl had been shot. River's knees buckled beneath her, suddenly unable to support her weight. Breathing deeply, with her hands on her knees she tried to steady herself, tried to gain some sort of composure and control. It was no use. Rick's words continued to swim in her head causing havoc, deepening the shock she felt until she simply collapsed.

River's whole world was spinning wildly out of control. One minute everything had been fine. Well, as fine as things can ever be when the dead are rising to eat the living and one of your best friends is dead. Still she'd woken up that morning, just as every morning before, except today she'd been determined to talk to Daryl. He'd been avoiding her ever since she'd seen his scars. Then the next minute, this.  _Daryl's been shot._

It was too much. River's heart had been broken when JJ had died. When she'd placed her own hand over Dane's and ended his life to save him from becoming one of those things... those Walkers. It was the type of thing no one should ever have to do, yet she'd known it was the right thing and it was for the best. It was what he wanted. What any of them would have wanted. They'd made a pact. Still, her heart hadn't even had time to mend and now Daryl's body was being dragged towards the farmhouse.

River swallowed, willing back the sobs she could feel stuck in the back of her throat. If one of them escaped, it would be too late. There would be no stopping the onslaught of tears already welling in her eyes at the thought of losing her red neck hunter.

A ball of guilt started to form in her chest. She'd known the Jackson brothers for as long as she cared to remember. They'd been her lifeline when things had been rough, her friends, and her family when she had no one left. J.J. Had been more than just Dane's kid brother, he'd been like her little brother too. So how she wondered, when in comparison she'd only just met Daryl, could she feel the pain of losing him so intensely.

Rick's voice came to her as if through a fog. It was muffled and unclear. She couldn't make sense of it. Nothing around her seemed to make sense. Everything was disjointed and out of sync.

"The bullet just grazed him."

River's eyes shot up to the wound on the side of Daryl's head as if it was the first time she'd seen it. His hair was matted to his head with blood. A wave of nausea swept over River and her vision narrowed until it seemed as if she was looking at everything through a tunnel.

"Should get Hershel to take a look at these other wounds though," Shane snorted. "He ain't lookin' so good."

"C'mon, help me get him to the farm house."

The gun shot and ensuing chaos had drawn a crowd. Everyone was rushing around. Questions were flying this way and that about what had happened. Everyone except for River. She was still frozen on her hands and knees watching helplessly. No matter how she willed herself to move, her body wouldn't cooperate.

Through tear-stained eyes, River stared after the men. Her brain was trying desperately to process what was happening. As she watched Shane and Rick drag Daryl towards the farm house she tried to reconcile the limp, injured body she knew was his with her image of Daryl as a strong, independent hunter. He was a fighter. He was tough. There was no way that could be him. Yet it was.

Lori's gaze fell upon the young woman kneeling in the grass, staring in shock at what had happened. She looked barely more than a girl in that moment. The mother felt a pang of sympathy and walked over to her. Gently she bent down and looped a hand under River's arm. The contact startled River, pulling her out of the daze she was in.

"C'mon sweetie," Lori encouraged, her voice low and soothing as she eased River to her feet. "You should be with him."

River nodded. Blankly she reached up and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her wrist. "Where's Dane?" she asked, wondering why it was Lori comforting her instead of her best friend.

The question took Lori by surprise. Hesitantly she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes scanning for the tall, lean man. Dane was with Andrea. His face was inches from the blonde's, and he didn't look happy. Lori recalled how River had lashed out at her husband when he'd first arrived at the quarry. She'd flung her weight at him, pushing him and beating on his chest in front of his own son, screaming at the top of her lungs. And that had been over Merle, whom she'd only known a few days.

"Don't worry about that right now," Lori said as she tugged River's arm, hurrying her towards the farmhouse. There was a definite fear of what the young woman might do when she realized it was Andrea who'd shot Daryl. "Dane's fine. It's Daryl that needs you right now."

* * *

"Jesus Christ, Andrea! What the hell were you thinking?" Dane shouted. His face was red with anger.

Andrea could feel his hot breath on her face. They were inches apart, but she refused to back away from his tirade. "That there was a Walker on the farm," she replied firmly.

Dane took a step back, shaking his head. He looked down, examining her with disgust that he didn't even try to hide. "You always identify your target. You can't just go shooting at anything that moves!"

"To be fair, Daryl did look like a Walker all filthy and stumbling along the way he was."

Dane threw his hands in the air. "That's like saying 'gee, that guy carrying his deer out of the bush looked an awful lot like a mulie because I saw a flash of antlers on his back'," he spat back at her, his voice filled with venom. "That's not identifying your target. That's stupidity and it gets people hurt, or killed."

"I was trying to protect the camp," Andrea stated cooly.

"A lot of good that did," Dane sneered. "Instead of protecting us, you damn near killed one of us. Maybe Dale was right," he thought bitterly, pausing to rub his face. "We never should have given you a gun."

_How could she take the shot if she wasn't sure? River would never have shot without knowing what her target was_ , Dane thought to himself. If she had of, Daryl and his brother Merle would have been dead back on that highway and they never would have crossed paths with Rick's group.

_"Grab the rifle,Tom! Looks like there's two of 'em." Dane had pointed to two figures on the road._

_"Shit Dane, I think they're people."_

_"Are you sure? We don't want to get bit if you're wrong."_

_"Pretty sure," River had replied, lowering her rifle_.

Even if she'd been pretty sure they were Walkers, Dane knew she wouldn't have fired until she was positive. Autumn River Thomson, his hunting and trapping partner, his best friend, he knew he never had to worry about her with a firearm. But this wasn't River now, this was Andrea and he never should have expected from her what he would have from River or his own brother.

_Buck Fever_  they called it when you novices were out hunting. They see a doe and swear there's antlers. It happened all the time. Sure, it wasn't a deer and they weren't hunting, but it was essentially the same thing. Andrea had seen something, and her brain had filled in the rest for her.

Mentally Dane kicked himself for not preparing her better. As he looked into Andrea's blue eyes it was guilt that he felt. Guilt for failing her when he was supposed to be her friend and teacher. Guilt for lashing out at her in his own anger. Guilt for expecting her to be like River.

Abruptly Dane turned and walked away. This time he really hoped Andrea was more like his best friend than not. With River he knew that no matter what he did or said he could always come back later to mend bridges. They were never burnt beyond repair. She would never stay mad or hurt with him for long. It was the best he could do to hope that Andrea could do the same, because if he stayed he knew he would just end up saying more things he would regret later.

* * *

Inside the farm house Hershel was working on Daryl. They had set aside a room to give the veterinarian space to work. As soon as Hershel had gone to lift Daryl's shirt he'd asked the others to leave. It was the least he could offer the man some privacy and dignity, even if he was unconscious.

River cracked the door open and stood with her small frame blocking the doorway. Her eyes immediately fixed on Daryl's broken body. As much as she'd told herself she was prepared to see him like that, she still let out a little gasp at the sight of him laid out on the bed.

The noise caught Hershel's attention. "I don't know if you should be here," he said quietly, positioning himself between Daryl and the doorway, trying to maintain the man's privacy.

Hershel's words fell on deaf ears. They didn't even register in River's brain. Without a word she repositioned herself so that she could see Daryl again, yet she didn't come any closer. She just stood there, staring and feeling as if her heart and stomach were trying to escape out her mouth. It was the strangest feeling standing there looking at him the way he was, so weak and vulnerable.

Daryl's face was pallid. Sweat beaded off his forehead, dripping down and soaking the sheets beneath him. River swore she could see a feverish heat radiating from him from where she stood across the room. There was a nasty puncture wound through his side. The torn and jagged edges were an angry shade of red. Daryl looked more like a sickly patient from the palliative care wing at the hospital than the strong hunter she knew him as.

River watched as Daryl's body inhaled a shaky breath. Her stomach was in knots as she unconsciously held her own, praying each breath he took would not be his last. He looked so frail, so fragile, she thought.  _He looked like death._

Hershel sighed when the young woman didn't leave. He turned with every intention to ask River to wait outside. However, he stopped when he saw her face. It was pale with shock and grief. He could see her throat move as she swallowed repeatedly without ever opening her mouth to speak or make a sound. At her sides River's fingers twitched nervously. Those big, green eyes of hers locked on the wound where Daryl had pulled the bolt from his own crossbow straight through his body.

Sympathy halted the words from his mouth. Hershel knew that look on her face. Instead of asking River to leave, he beckoned her over. "Daryl's going to be alright," the vet assured her. He kept his voice calm and even. "Going to need to rest, but he'll heal. We've got some antibiotics still, so infection shouldn't be too big of a concern."

Hershel knew from the blank look on River's face that his words weren't getting through to the girl. Gently he took her by the shoulders and turned her away from the injured man. "He'll live," he repeated slowly and firmly, making her make eye contact with him. "Daryl will be fine. I'll fix him up."

Finally River blinked. Her brain successfully registered his words and she nodded in understanding. Out of the loop seeing him laying there had thrown her for she bit her lip hard trying to stay grounded. As her teeth dug in she could taste the blood just below the surface. Desperately River fought back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her again. Letting out her own breath she'd been holding, she cautiously pulled up a chair next to the bed where Daryl lay.

"You better," River choked out, half laughing, half crying as she sat down. "I can't lose him, Hershel," she said, her tone becoming very serious. "I love him. So you'd better."

It was no secret that River and Daryl cared about each other, even if Daryl Dixon wouldn't admit it to anyone. However, hearing River confess her feelings for the man so readily took Hershel by surprise. The man smiled, turning back to his work.

"I didn't know you two were..."

"We're not."

"Oh." There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.

No more was said on the matter. Hershel focused on Daryl's injuries. His work was carried out silently as he diligently cleaned and stitched the unconscious hunter's wounds. Special care was paid to the puncture wound where Daryl had fallen on his own bolt. The damage went down into the deep tissues where an infection could fester out of sight. If would have been dangerous before the world ended. Hershel wasn't about to tell River how dangerous it was now, and he certainly wasn't going to take any chances with it.

"That ought'a do it," Hershel said finally having finished. He stood, stretching his cramped muscles and removing the latex gloves from his hands.

"Thank you for fixing him," River said. The young woman tried to smile but she was still shaky from seeing Daryl in such a weakened state.

Hershel nodded to her and headed towards the door. Pausing for a moment with his hand hovering over the door knob, he turned back to River. "You two would be good together," Hershel stated simply as if it were a fact, then he disappeared.

"You hear that," River laughed jokingly to Daryl's unconscious body as she gently nudged his shoulder. "Even Hershel thinks we should be together."

Though Daryl was not unconscious, and hadn't been for some time, he kept his eyes closed and his face perfectly still. When he'd heard her voice at first he thought he'd been dreaming, some foolish, fever inspired dream.  _I can't lose him, Hershel. I love him_. Then Daryl had realized he was very much awake and terror had seized him. He hadn't known what to do. He still didn't know what to do. So he kept his eyes closed and pretended. All he did know, was that he dare not let River know that he'd heard her. He'd heard every word she'd said.


	33. Walking Wounded (Part 2)

 

Daryl lay on a bed, tucked away in a quiet corner of the farm house. Every muscle in his body ached. Even his bones seemed to hurt. Though his eyes were shut his ears were alert waiting to hear the patter of River's feet across the floor. The woman had been sitting beside his bed for hours, but Daryl couldn't face her.

Inside his head her words played over and over in a seemingly endless loop.  _I can't lose him, Hershel. I love him_. Love? Him? Part of him kept doubting that he had heard her right. Kept thinking that maybe it was the fever playing tricks with his mind.

Merle's voice too worked itself into his thoughts. It started as a quiet murmur, feeding on his uncertainty and planting seeds of doubt. As his doubt grew, so too did his brother's voice grow louder and louder. It struggled to drown out the voice of River.  _Ain't nobody gonna love ya but me, little brother,_  he heard his older brother. The same words he'd heard from him so many times in the past.  _Nobody but me_.

River watched as Daryl's face twitched and contorted, hoping that it was just some feverish dream and not that he was in significant pain. Somehow she had the feeling that Daryl had experienced enough pain in his life. While River watched him intently, she had no idea the battle playing out in his head. A war was being waged, and she was in the center of it.

There was a quiet knock at the door before Hershel poked his head inside. "How's he doing?" the vet asked, having come to check in on his patient. His voice was solemn and deeply caring.

River shook her head. There was no trace of her usual playfulness. "I don't know," she admitted. "Shouldn't he be awake by now?"

"I would have thought so."

In that moment Daryl's heart skipped a beat in response to Hershel's words. A sudden fear swept over him that somehow they knew that he had heard them. It took ever ounce of his self control not to react. One thing he knew for certain. He couldn't keep playing at this game, not for much longer.

River let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back into her chair. There wasn't much she could do except for wait. And waiting wasn't exactly one of her strong suits. Not before. Even out hunting she preferred the spot and stalk method to waiting in a blind. Certainly not now when Daryl's life hung in the balance.

Over the next little while Daryl listened to the rhythmic sound of feet as people came and went. It seemed that just about everyone on the farm came to check in on him. That was something he found surprising. It was a curious feeling listening to concerned voices asking how he was and if he'd woken up yet. It was alien to him to have all these people who  _cared_.

Eventually, despite his efforts to the contrary Daryl began to nod off. The injuries he'd sustained during his ordeal in the woods sapped what little energy he had. His body was spent. Exhaustion overtook him and Daryl slipped back into a fitful sleep.

_He was stuck in some sort of perpetual twilight. The world was painted in shades of grey and blue. The dark canopy of the forest spread out above him, filtering out the light. There was a living presence to the trees, their twigs and branches clawing at his skin. They held him back as he tried to run. He was chasing something. Someone._

_As he struggled through the tangled mess of branches, working his way through the twisted trails something started to change. The trees flattened out, morphing into walls. The ground smoothed and hardened into the well tread floor of the IKEA store. Daryl ripped open one door after another desperately searching for River._

_A door appeared in front of him. A storage closet. There was a eerie familiarity to it. Daryl moved forward with a purpose. He knew, deep down in his heart what he would find behind that door. That's where he would find River._

_Time seemed to slow as he reached out, grasping for the cold metal handle. Daryl twisted it, swinging the door wide open. The scene before him wasn't exactly new. It haunted him frequently in the hours before he woke. Tonight however, it was different. It wasn't River's broken body sprawled across the dirty mattress, but Sophia's._

Daryl woke with a start. The first thing he did was grab the side of the bed, pulling himself so he could hang his head over the edge, and emptied the contents of his stomach. The taste of bile clung to the back of his throat. Although he could not remember the details of his dream, his skin crawled.

After wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist Daryl looked up. The first thing he noticed was River. She had dozed off in the chair next to the bed where he lay. The noise of the sheets rustling as Daryl had moved and the sound of his vomiting had caused her to stir. Now she groggily rubbed her eyes, peering out at him.

"Oh hey...," River yawned sleepily. "You're awake." Daryl grunted affirmatively.

As River smiled at him from the chair, he awkwardly tried to avoid making eye contact with her. His blue eyes darted shamefully to the ground where bits of uncooked squirrel marinated in stomach acid had spilled to the floor. It didn't take long for River to follow his gaze and realize what had woken her.

"Don't worry about it," River told him as she moved to clean it up.

Daryl tried to protest. The last thing he wanted was for her to be taking care of his mess. He felt weak that he couldn't do it himself, that it had even happened in the first place.

"After that first night in camp I got up and threw up all over myself in front of half of the group," River admitted. "It could be worse," she grinned. "At least it's just me."

It couldn't be worse, Daryl thought. He'd rather it had been anyone other than River. Still he said nothing, he just stared sideways at her through squinted eyes.

"Hershel left some pain killers," River offered. "I'll get you some water."

"Nah, I'm fine," Daryl said gruffly. He found his voice was raw and coarse. As he tried to pull himself into more of a sitting position he winced.

"Lying bastard," River muttered. Daryl smirked and started to chuckle. The noise quickly turned in to a hacking cough that wracked his body with pain.

Seeing the agony on his face, River jumped up and grabbed him a glass of water and a couple of pills. "Just take them," she ordered. "You don't need to impress me by playing tough guy."

Daryl glared at the accusation. Of course, there was some truth to it. He was a Dixon after all, and Dixon's weren't allowed to show weakness. And of all the people he didn't want to appear weak in front of River was near the top of the list, right next to Merle, but for different reasons. Still he swallowed the pills and was thankful for the relief they would bring.

For a long while the two of them sat in silence. Neither spoke, although each would steal glances at the other. Periodically Daryl would clear his throat and River would look up expectantly. Before her green eyes could even meet his blue ones he would quickly look away. Time would pass and she would no longer be look at him, then Daryl would start again.

Finally Daryl worked up the courage to speak and ask what was on his mind. "Did you mean whatch'ya said?" he asked gruffly. The words came quickly and sounded forced. It wasn't easy for him to ask.

"Pardon?"

Daryl hastily dropped his gaze to the ground. "Nothin'," he muttered.

River inhaled deeply, letting the breath out in a sigh. Although he wasn't looking directly at her, Daryl could see her shoulders rise and fall through the corner of his eye. She was staring stubbornly at him, waiting and watching as he squirmed.

"Earlier," Daryl mumbled, though he refused to meet her eyes. "When ya was talkin' ta Hershel."

River's jaw dropped. It hung open as she stared in shock and disbelief. "You could hear me?" she asked. "I thought you were unconscious."

Daryl squirmed again, wishing he'd kept his trap shut. It was too late now to take it back. So he awkwardly shrugged his shoulders, peering up with one eye to see if she was laughing at him.

River wasn't laughing. Instead she smiled. "Every word," she assured him.

There was a pang of sympathy as River watched the emotions play out across Daryl's face. Clearly they were uncomfortable feelings for him from the way his face twisted and contorted as he tried to work through them. River couldn't help but wonder what dark secrets lurked in his past that made this so difficult for him. Somehow she knew it was intimately tied to how he got those scars.

"I'm going to go down and grab some food," River told him. As much as she was happy that he was awake, as much as she wanted nothing more than to be there with him, she knew that he needed space to process what was going on. "Would you like something?"

"Ain't hungry," Daryl muttered dismissively.

River frowned, her eyebrows deeply furrowed as she looked at Daryl. Knowing how he pulled away from physical contact, she moved slowly, leaning down to place a kiss upon his forehead. Daryl pulled away, as he usually did. Her heart sank that he would flinch reflexively at such an innocent gesture. River paused, allowing him time to relax as he realized that she wasn't going to hurt him. As soon as he did River placed her lips gently to his forehead.

"Tough shit," River whispered against his skin before she pulled away. "I'll bring you some soup or something anyways. You gotta eat."

As River walked out of the room, Daryl followed her with his eyes. His heart was pounding inside his chest. The skin where she had kissed him tingled. There was an almost irresistible urge to bring his fingers up to trace the outline of her lips. It wasn't the first time that she had kissed him. Still, every time she did it was much the same. It took him by surprise and left him wondering what exactly it meant.

Daryl wanted to let himself hope. He wanted to hope that things could work between him and River. To hope that she could actually be his. Relationships were never something he was good at, and he had quickly learned to steer clear of them. It had always been easier and less painful. It had worked wonderfully until River had come along. Then things had become complicated. Now he didn't know what to do.

_You're weak_ , Merle's voice told him. It was weak to want. It was weak to need. To place his hope on the foolish idea that a girl like River could love him.  _Ain't no one gonna love ya 'cept me, little brother_. It was only because he was injured, Daryl told himself. He knew that wasn't true though. He had wanted River for a long time.

With nothing to do but lay there and think, Daryl couldn't get her out of his mind. Again River's and Merle's voices waged war inside his head. Slowly but surely, River's started to win over and he started to let himself believe she had meant what she said.  _I can't lose him, Hershel. I love him_. River loved him.


	34. On The Mountain Top

 

Over the days that followed Daryl's injury River remained at his bedside. At first things had been awkward. Her confession had left the hardened man struggling with a slew of unfamiliar emotions. Slowly though, he had come to accept her presence there. He had come to accept that she cared about him.

With neither Daryl nor River out hunting it fell to Dane to provide. The Greene's had livestock, but he didn't want for their group to be too great a burden. They didn't want to wear out their already uncertain welcome. The trapper was doing double duty. He was up extra early, setting traps in the wee hours of the morning before the sun even rose. Once that was taken care of he'd hunt all day, then return to check on his traps often after sunset on his way back to the farm.

Despite all that had happened, Dane was thankful to accept the help when Andrea offered. Whether it was guilt or desire that motivated her was unclear. One thing however was obvious, she didn't hold his angry outburst against him.

Back at the farmhouse hung an uneasy peace that everyone was afraid to disturb. Up until now River had been by Daryl's side and had yet to confront Andrea. No one had said anything. To do so would have been like prodding a bull. They didn't want to see the fireworks fly when the two women finally crossed paths.

Now that Daryl was up and about, so was River and that moment was inevitably looming closer. It occurred downstairs just outside of the kitchen. No one really knew what to expect when her and Andrea came face to face. They waited with baited breath, praying there wouldn't be another casualty.

The two women stopped in their tracks, facing each other in some sort of standoff. Their eyes were locked. Andrea didn't miss the flicker of fire in her opponent's gaze before River rushed her, slamming her back hard into the wall. The impact shook the house, knocking a picture off the wall in its frame.

The muscles in River's face twitched as the young woman tried, for the sake of the group, to hold onto some shred of self-control. "If you ever hurt him," she warned her voice low and menacing, "or so much as point a firearm at any one of us again, I will kill you myself."

Andrea looked into her eyes and knew that River was serious. The woman nodded in agreement. River held her there a moment longer, her fingers wrapped tightly around her neck. When she was satisfied that Andrea understood, she released her and turned to walk away.

"Are we good then?" Andrea asked hesitantly. She hoped that River would be the same woman with her that she was with the others. The same woman that didn't hold grudges with Dane and was willing to let go and move forward.

"Yeah, we're good." And so long as Andrea heeded her warning, they were.

* * *

Daryl's injuries were healing well, though they still forced him to slow down and take it easy. Taking it easy wasn't exactly part of his vocabulary and it was a concept that he was struggling immensely with. When he had been bed-ridden he'd found it difficult to let River watch over and take care of him, although she'd left him little choice. Now that he was moving around again, everyone was trying to do things for him and asking how he was doing. It made Daryl feel weak and useless. He wished they'd just leave him alone.

It was suffocating in the farmhouse with everyone showing their concern. Daryl needed to find some space, he needed to get away from everyone. Besides, there was still Sophia. That little girl was out there somewhere, cold, hungry and alone. She must be terrified. Until her body was found, Daryl wasn't willing to give up on her.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Hershel demanded.

Daryl was busying himself sharpening his knife. His crossbow and bolts stood in the corner ready and waiting for him. All he had to do was pick them up and go. "Gonn' go find that little girl," he snarled, not daring to look up and meet Hershel's eye. He already knew the disapproval he would find there.

"You still need to rest and heal," Hershel protested. "If you go running around out there now you're likely to rip out your stitches."

Daryl spun on him. "I'm sick an' tired of you people tellin' me what to do," he growled. "I ain't none of yall's concern. Got that?"

Hershel nodded as he took a step back from the volatile southerner's rage. He let the man pass without another word.

It was a painstaking and slow process as Daryl made his way back through the woods to where he'd found Sophia's doll. He scoured the ground with the keen eyes of an expert tracker, yet he found no further clues to her direction of travel. The little girl had been there all right, but not recently. Any sign that she had left had all since been washed away.

As it neared dark Daryl made his way back towards Hershel's farm. Along the way he passed a hill. It was the same one he'd followed River up the evening after Jason's death. He'd found her sitting alone on the top of the ridge sobbing. There was fresh sign leading up the slope. Based on the size of the foot prints and the distance between strides it could easily be River.

Daryl stood at the bottom of the hill chewing at his thumbnail. He glanced in the direction of the farm then back up towards the ridge where he knew he would find her. River. The woman he'd tried so hard not to care about. The man was torn. Truth was he did care, but he didn't know what to do if he found her crying again. Returning to the farm would be easier. Simpler. But, since Daryl had overheard River's conversation with Hershel, he found it harder to ignore her. Harder to just walk away.

Against the judgement of his inner voice, Daryl started his way up the steep slope. It was slow going. His body was in rough shape and his stitches burned with every step. The rocky and uneven ground made every foot of ground he covered a struggle in his injured state. Yet he pushed the pain and exhaustion down into some dark and remote corner of his brain and carried on.

When Daryl finally reached the top of the rise he was not surprised to see River's silhouette overlooking the valley below. The young woman's shoulders were slouched. Her braids were loose and coming undone, giving her a slightly dis-shelved look. At her side was Liam, laying faithfully next to her. The dog, the color of dead grass, raised his broad head and looked lazily over his shoulder as Daryl approached.

"The hell ya doin' up here?" Daryl growled once he knew he'd been made by the animal.

River spun around in surprise. "I should be the one asking you that," she retorted.

"Yeah, we'll I asked first." Daryl noticed the redness in her eyes and regretted how rough his voice had sounded.

"Just looking for answers," River muttered as she turned away from him, her eyes scanning the land as it stretched out for miles below.

Daryl exhaled sharply as he lowered himself awkwardly, sitting on a rock next to her. River had sat at the side of his bed for days. Somehow he felt like he owed her that much.

"Dunno what kinda answers yer expecting' ta find out here," Daryl said, trying to find some tenderness in his voice, although it still came across all gravel and grit.

River let out a long sigh. She rested her chin on her knees and continued staring out over the vastness below. "It's just that I feel guilty," she admitted.

Daryl looked sideways at River, eyeing her up. "The hell ya got ta feel guilty for?"

River shook her head, her braids swaying from side to side. Her emotional struggle wasn't something that she could easily put into words. Every night since Jason's death she had been coming up here and she still wasn't even sire exactly what it was she was looking for. She just knew she felt closer to him and things seemed clearer.

"The world's gone to hell, most everyone's dead and I just lost one of my best friends."

Daryl squinted, confused as to what River was trying to say. "Ain't none a that yer fault," he reminded her.

River paused a long while before she spoke again. "My hand was on the trigger too," she said of the night Jason died. The night her and Dane had held the crossbow to his head and put him out of his misery before he could turn into one of those horrible monsters.

"He was already dead," Daryl said bluntly. "Was nothin' ya coulda done for him."

River nodded slowly, keeping her face pointed down to hide the tears that were starting to well up again. "It's not just that," she admitted painfully. Daryl didn't say anything, just scrunched up his face and watched her through squinted eyes. "I..." River hesitated, having never tried to put these feelings into words before now. "I feel guilty because I haven't had time to grieve my friend. I haven't even really said goodbye yet here I am carrying on with my life. It just feels wrong."

Daryl kicked at the ground with his toe, sending a pebble tumbling down the hillside. He knew this was the point where he should say something, say anything, but he didn't know what to tell her. He chewed at his thumbnail and let let his gaze drift awkwardly away to the horizon.

"I shouldn't be happy. I should be mourning," River continued, seemingly unaware that she was the only one talking.

"Ya don't wanna be happy, that it?" Daryl looked at her quizzically. "That's all kinds of messed up, girl."

River snorted, smiling up between her tears. She lightly shoved Daryl in the shoulder. To her surprise he didn't pull away from her. "I suppose when you say it like that it does sound kind of ridiculous."

River sighed and reached a hand into her pocket. Daryl shifted his weight so he could see what she had. In her hand she held what looked like a long tooth that curved up into the shape of a question mark. It was attached to a thin chain.

"It was JJ's," River remarked, turning the trinket over in her hand. "It's a tooth from the very first beaver he trapped when he was just a little kid." River paused and scrunched up her nose. "I stole it," she admitted, earning a pair of raised eyebrows from the hunter sitting next to her. "When he died, I took it. I don't know what I was thinking. That it was something I could keep to remind me of him, but it didn't feel right. I've been meaning to say my goodbyes to Jason and let go of it but I just haven't been able to bring myself to do it. This should have been buried with him. I should have been there to say goodbye then," River explained regretfully.

"C'mon," Daryl said, standing up. He owed her this much, he thought.

River tilted her face towards him, a confused expression on her face. Daryl towered over her where she still sat on the ground. All his features were rough and hard, like his life had been. Yet he was handsome, and there was something in those blue eyes that looked a little softer at River than she'd seen them before.

"I said c'mon," Daryl repeated, more forcefully. "Ain't like I got all day."

River wiped at her tear-stained face with the back of her wrist then held out her hand, just as she had done when they had only just met. When he had saved her from that Walker and left her laying in the mud.

"Well then, quit being an ass and help me up."

Daryl smirked, remembering that day as well. This time he reached a hand down and hauled River easily to her feet.

"Where are we going?" River asked as Daryl led her down the hillside.

"Jus' follow me."


	35. Never Too Late For Goodbye

 

The light was fading quickly, especially under the cover of trees. The thick canopy above them seemed to swallow what little daylight was left. River and Daryl had been making their way slowly down the hillside from the ridge where he'd found her. The stitches in Daryl's side were angry and inflamed. Although he would never admit it, River could see the pain in his face. She'd slowed her own pace, forcing him to slow down and take the decline easier too.

Without warning River stopped dead in her tracks. Daryl took a few more paces, carried forward simply by his own momentum. When she didn't continue to follow, he spun around and looked back impatiently at the brunette. She had her hands on her hips and was staring defiantly at him. Daryl couldn't help but notice she'd never lost her curves.

"Hey Dixon, The farm's that way," River protested, pointing in the direction of Hershel's farm. She made a big show of it, as if to imply that Daryl, the master woodsman, didn't know where he was going.

The implication irked Daryl instantly. He felt a wave of irritation, and was about to snap back at her when he noticed the mischievous grin slowly spreading across River's face. Instead the man softened and smirked back at her.

"We're not going to the farm."

* * *

"Daryl should be back by now," Dale said, a worried look on his aging face. He had been pacing back and forth for the las half hour, frowning from underneath his floppy fishing hat every time he looked outside and saw the light fading.

"He'll be fine," Rick insisted. Of course, he had no way of knowing that, but he had to believe it was true. As much as Rick had disliked the man when they'd first met he'd come to respect and rely on Daryl more and more.

"River will take care of him," Dane said. A knowing smile formed on his face. It was no secret to him just how much the woman cared for the redneck.

"We don't even know if she's with him," Dale protested.

"Since when do we need to worry about Daryl Dixon?" Andrea asked incredulously. "He's always been able to take care of himself before."

"How about since he fell on his own crossbow bolt and you shot him?" Dane snapped back at her. His tone was half resentful, half teasing.

Either way it shut Andrea up. Dane saw the sting of hurt in her blue eyes and immediately regretted his words. It was hard. As much as he didn't want to be, he was still angry about what happened. Still, he knew that they didn't share the same history as him and River. He couldn't treat Andrea the same way and expect her to get it.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for," Dane quickly added.

"No. No it wasn't," Andrea insisted. Part of her knew she needed to take responsibility for what she'd done. "You're right. I never should have pulled that trigger if I wasn't a hundred percent sure what I was shooting at. I know better now."

Dane pressed his lips together, studying the remorseful face staring back at him. "Friends?" he asked, extending a hand out to her.

Andrea reached out and took his hand in her own. "Friends."

* * *

A large harvest moon hung over horizon. It's yellow-orange hue a strange sight indeed. Still, the large, full moon cast enough light to get by once Daryl and River had emerged from the forest. The pair had been walking in relative silence since they'd left the hill top. River made the odd, infrequent remark, but for the most part she respected Daryl's preference not to engage in idle chit chat.

Stepping out onto the highway River was struck by a very sudden sense of unease. Her gait slowed and finally halted as her feet hit the asphalt. The woman turned her head first to the left, gazing down a long empty tract of road. Next she turned to the right. She gulped involuntarily as her eyes fell on the familiar sight of a large traffic snarl. In an instant the blood drained from her face.

"Why did you bring me back here?" River demanded.

"Ya need t' say goodbye," Daryl told her. It was as simple as that for the redneck. Something needed to be done, so do it.

River inhaled deeply and let the air expel slowly from her lungs. As she repeated this motion over and over again her eyes stared blankly beyond the cars and came rest at a little patch of ground on the side of the road. Reflexively River's hand moved to her pocket and she turned Jason's beaver tooth over in her fingers.

"I'm not ready," River said her voice weak and lacking it's normal buoyancy. Shaking her head from side to side she took a step back away from the grave site.

"Yeah, ya are," Daryl insisted nudging her forward with a nod of her head. River almost took a step forward, but hesitated, retreating again. Not letting her get away, Daryl reached out and wrapped a large, calloused hand around her wrist. "C'mon," he said firmly, as he led her towards the grave of her good friend.

River stood there with her lips pursed and frowned down at the patch of ground. This was the very moment she'd been working up to. However, now that she was faced with it she had no idea what to do.

"I guess this is why people get priests to talk at funerals," River laughed nervously. "Because no one knows what to say."

Daryl stood back, although not too far incase there were Walkers about. He was trying to give River as much time and space as she needed. Even though he could hear her, he said nothing. He knew she wasn't talking to him.

"Except for maybe Dane, and Dale, and everyone else who spoke at your funeral. They seemed to know what to say. I guess, it's just me, eh?" River stopped and turned her face to the sky as she choked back her tears. She was trying desperately to hold it together.

Turning to Daryl she snorted. "I know he's dead and he can't hear me..."

"It ain't just for him," Daryl said his voice as soft as she'd ever heard it. He gave her a little nod of encouragement to go on. Saying goodbye was just as much for her, so she could let go of the guilt she was carrying. That's why he'd dragged her here. River needed this.

River turned back to the grave. "I am so sorry JJ. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. I'm sorry I wasn't there to say anything after you died. I'm sorry for everything I took for granted and all the sacrifices you made for me that I'll never be able to repay."

Whatever shred of composure River had been holding onto snapped. She began sobbing openly. "You and Dane, have been my best friends and the closest thing to family anyone could hope for. Now you're gone and I don't know how to deal with that. I just keep pushing it aside, hoping maybe I won't have to deal with it. But, I know you're not coming back. I miss you so much."

River knelt down, tears falling from her cheeks and leaving wet speckles on the mound of dirt that marked the spot where her friend had been laid to rest. Carefully she placed the beaver tooth over Jason's grave, covering it with a layer of stones. "Goodbye JJ."

River looked up helplessly to Daryl. Her big green eyes were filled with tears. "Now what am I supposed to do?" she asked.

"Life don't end right?" Daryl echoed back the sentiment he'd heard the three trappers share time and again. "Ya keep on keepin' on."


	36. A Good Day

 

Darkness had fallen on the farm. The days were getting shorter and the nights were getting colder. Inside the tent, Daryl lay on his back, stretched out on his cot. His fingers were intertwined behind his head. One deep breath after another, he tried to clear his mind and find relief in sleep

After a long while his breathing slowed and his eyelids began to droop. Just as Daryl was about to doze off he was jolted back to wakefulness. Suddenly alert he reached for his crossbow while he listed for the sound that had roused him. The tent zipper. Slowly he exhaled his breath. Walkers didn't do zippers.

Next thing Daryl knew River was standing in the doorway and Liam's slobbery tongue was running across his face.

"Get ahold of yer mutt would ya?" Daryl growled. "Tryin' to sleep here."

River rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "He's not a mutt," she corrected him. "I think for that I'm going to let him continue to lick you until you either say you're sorry or have been licked to death," she threatened with a casualness that suggested she'd stand there all night.

From across the tent Daryl scowled at her. "I ain't sayin' sorry to no mutt."

River shrugged with a certain indifference. "Have it your way," she said nonchalantly. Meanwhile Liam continued his drooling assault on the redneck hunter. River laughed as she watched Daryl raise his hands in a feeble attempt to shield himself from the slime.

Ignoring the goings on across from her River busied herself fixing the other cot. "It's good to be out of that house," River commented casually. Like Daryl, she felt more at home sleeping under the trees.

There was a long pause. "Ya, suppose it is."

"C'mon Liam," River patted her leg, calling off the dog. "Bedtime." Liam got one last lick in before heeding his master's call and curling up at the foot of the cot.

"Thought ya was gonna let him lick me to death," Daryl smirked as he pointed out she hadn't made good on her threat.

River shrugged, a sly smile creeping onto her face. "Looked like you needed some help." Daryl was muttering and grumbling when River ducked over to his side of the tent. She planted a quick peck on his cheek before turning back to her side of the tent. "Goodnight, Daryl."

Again there was a long moment of silence between them. Finally Daryl spoke up. His voice was husky as he muttered back to her, "Night, River."

His words sounded awkward. Forced. It was, however, the first time he had ever said goodnight back to her, River realized. She smiled to herself as she climbed into her sleeping bag. It was a start.

* * *

When River woke she was in good spirits. It's going to be a good day, she thought to herself. The guilt that had been following her had subsided since Daryl took her out and forced her to deal with Jason's death. Somehow in his way he'd known exactly what she needed. No longer was she stuck in the house. Daryl was out and about again. All was well in River's world.

Once breakfast was over they'd go out and continue the search for Sophia. Before his injury Daryl had found the little girl's doll. Since then River felt more positive about the prospects of finding her alive. The sentiment didn't seem to be shared among the majority.

Out by the fire pit Lori was cooking breakfast. River walked towards the spot with her hands covering her eyes, sniffing deeply as she approached. "Let me guess," she beamed. "Squirrel?"

"Someone's in a good mood," Dale commented. The old man winked at River as she uncovered her eyes. There was a mischievous grin across his face.

The young woman smacked him playfully in the shoulder. "It's not like that, Dale," River protested.

Lori ignored what Dale was implying and turned to River as if nothing had been said. "How did you know it was squirrel? Really by the smell?"

River let out a hearty laugh. There was a white plastic bucket near the fire pit. Over its edge hung a small pile of squirrel pelts. She smiled at Lori and pointed to it. "Saw them from back near the tent," she explained.

As River settled in to sit and eat, the others from the group started to trickle in as well. Where there was food, people would inevitably gather. The mood continued to be light until Glenn showed up. Then everything seemed to change very quickly.

There was a tension between the young man and Dale that River didn't quite understand. Soon enough, however, she would. They all would. Dale continued to pressure him until he spilled the secret he'd been keeping.

"There's Walkers in the barn," Glenn told them reluctantly.

Five words, that's all it took for shit to hit the fan.

The obvious course of action to many was simple. Deal with it. If there's Walkers, take care of them. Kill them. River was no different. Those monstrosities had killed her friend, and she was out for blood. What moral objections Hershel may have had mattered as much to her as P.E.T.A.'s objections had mattered when hunting had been her only source of food. Some things were necessities, and in this new world if you didn't put down the dead they came back for you.

For Rick, however, things weren't so simple. At the best of times relations with Hershel were shaky. The man didn't even feel comfortable with them having firearms on his farm. With Carl barely recovered from his gunshot wound, Rick and Lori had the most to lose if they were kicked off the farm.

"This is Hershel's farm," Rick reminded everyone after confronting Hershel himself. "He believes those... things are still people. We have to respect his wishes." He was adamant on that last part. Under no circumstance were they to open up that barn and kill the Walkers residing within.

"Those things ain't people, Rick," Shane protested as he gestured wildly. "This is crazy man. We all know that."

No one was comfortable with the close proximity of the Walkers in the barn. No one wanted to be eating and sleeping a stone's throw away from the monsters. The mere realization that they had been all this time sent shivers up Lori's spine. Still her husband's argument seemed to have won over in the end. As much as no one wanted the Walkers there, they also didn't want to leave the farm. It was their safe haven, even if it wasn't as safe as they'd originally believed. It was still better than being on the road.

As the day progressed tensions rose to boiling point. For some the matter was a no-brainer and Hershel's wishes be damned, those Walkers had to go. Shane was ever ready to champion the issue.

When Rick returned later with Hershel leading a Walker to the barn it was the last straw. Unwilling to continue with the ridiculous facade, Shane pulled out his weapon. He raised it, pointing it at the Walker Hershel had leashed. Repeatedly he shot it in the chest. Shot after shot pierced the creatures rotting flesh yet still it stood. Still it walked. That thing wasn't human. Once he felt his point had been made, Shane shot the Walker in the head at point blank range. Finally the body crumpled to the ground, as it should have been all along.

The ball was rolling. Shane rolled with it, taking the momentum of what he had started and moved to the barn. In a fit of rage he broke open the lock. As the doors pushed open, Walkers started pulling out. The insanity ended here. Hershel and his daughters watched in horror as their neighbors, friends, and family were shot down in front of them.

There wasn't a moment's hesitation, as the firing line raised their rifles. River was as quick as the other's to join in, taking a place standing next to Glenn. Along with Shane, Daryl and T-Dog they fired, downing one Walker after another. It wasn't until the slaughter was over that the sound of gunfire subsided and the firing squad lowered their weapons.

Then it was Rick's band of survivor's turn to stand and watch in horror. One last figure emerged from the barn. Sophia. A breath caught in River's throat and her rifle hung limply at her side. The girl was long dead and turned into one of those... Things. A Walker. Not a little girl, River told herself, as she forced her muscles to respond, to raise her weapon once more.

Rick put out a hand, staying the young woman's movement. River dropped it back down once more and watched with an awe and respect as Rick did what needed to be done. Solemnly he drew his side-arm, aiming it at the child's head. The pain was so clear on his face as he moved his finger to the trigger. Then Rick shot Sophia. Or at least, what used to have been Sophia.

So much for it being a good day, River thought bitterly.


	37. Aftermath

 

The barn had become the site of a massacre to the Greenes. They had stood helplessly and watched as their friends, family and neighbors were gunned down in front of them. Any hope they had had of salvation had ended that day as they had watched Shane pump bullet after bullet into one of their neighbors to no effect. Though still, watching their loved ones fall had been too much for some. Hershel had disappeared. He'd taken off on a bender to some abandoned bar. Meanwhile Beth had fallen into a state of shock and become practically comatose.

They had to find Hershel. There was no other way. The man was the closest thing they had to a doctor and Beth was his daughter. If anyone could help her it was him. Rick and Glenn were going to find him. For Dane it was an opportunity to lend a hand and he quickly volunteered to join them in the search.

Not everyone was happy with the arrangement. "Could use you here at the farm," Shane protested. It seemed every time some idiot needed rescuing the people most capable of protecting camp took off on some foolish rescue mission. Had they so quickly forgotten what happened when they went to save Merle Dixon? These sorts of scenarios didn't end well.

"Hershel's been good letting us stay here. I owe him this. We all do. He could be in trouble."

"What's the use?" Shane asked, his head shaking with disapproval. "That old fool wants to run off putting himself in danger, that don't mean the rest of us need to risk our necks looking for him."

"Sometimes," Dane explained calmly, "you don't do something because you need to, but because it's the right thing to do."

Shane scoffed. It was bad enough listening to the lectures on morals from Dale all the time. Now he had this little shit going on about right and wrong too. Too bad they weren't as concerned about keeping everyone safe and surviving. It was like they didn't realize the world had changed.

"Besides, you have Andrea now," Dane said, casting a smile in the woman's direction. Her mishap shooting Daryl aside, she had become quite proficient with a gun. There was no doubt in his mind that she was capable of helping to defend the farm if Walkers were to attack.

* * *

Since the incident at the barn Dane had been in the middle of everything, trying to help out, trying to right the wrong that they had committed against Hershel and his family. River on the other hand was spending as much time as possible away from the farm. There was too much loss and pain in the world. Too much insanity. She needed to be somewhere where things were simple, where they made sense. In the woods there was only hunter and hunted. There was no drama and betrayal.

There was simplicity and familiarity in wandering through the trees and the hilltops. River passed the hours blazing trails and setting up a makeshift trapline with the nine remaining traps and a handful of snares she'd fashioned. Once she was done she planned to sit on top of a ridge and watch the valley below for game before returning for the night. It was comforting to be doing something normal, to return to the life she was used to. Out there it was just her and Liam. Everything else could be forgotten for a little while.

With Liam on guard duty River was able to relax. The Chessie was alert and ready to warn his master if anything approached. There was a decent sized squirrel midden that River had spotted and she intended to set up a snare pole. A lot of trappers didn't bother with squirrel because they sold so poorly, but River had always been happy to take the little critters. A dollar was a dollar and a meal was a meal.

After tying one end of her pole to the first tree River reached into her pocket for more twine only to find it empty. "Bastard," River cursed under her breath.

Liam turned towards the sound of her voice and cocked his head attentively to the side.

River chuckled at the sight of her dog. "Wasn't talking to you bud."

With a groan Liam dropped his broad head back onto his paws and resumed his vigil. His eyes, ears and nose were all on the lookout for predators. Be it the kind they were used to or the dead sort.

* * *

It was depressing in the bar. Not just because everyone was dead. No, it had been a depressing place before the world had ended. Somehow Dane knew that Hershel had spent many nights here, ignoring his family and trying to drink away the pain. Yet he'd come around in the end and become a good, loving father. He needed him to come around again and escape this trap he was setting for himself.

Dane sat down at the bar next to Hershel and draped his arm over the old man's shoulders. "Bad shit happens," Dane said bluntly. "All the time. It always has, and it always will. I know you're hurting, but life doesn't end. You got family back at that farm that's worried about you. They need you. Beth needs you."

"C'mon," Rick said in a calm but firm voice. "Let's get you back to the farm."

Hershel relented and stood. The effects of the alcohol were already apparent. As he took a step he wobbled, his body threatening to tip over and have an unpleasant meeting with the hard wooden floor. Dane quickly scooped under his arms, steadying the old man.

"There now. Take it easy. One step at a time."

The door opened and two strangers appeared. Their arrival had a sobering effect on Hershel. Meanwhile, Rick and Dane exchanged surprised glances before turning to the unfamiliar men.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the men asked.

"I could ask you the same question," Rick replied, his hand hovering near his sidearm.

* * *

The discovery of Sophia as a Walker in the barn had been hard on everyone from the quarry camp. Though Daryl had been taking it harder than most. For him it was a personal failure. The hunter had become insufferable. His usual volatility had hit new levels and he was lashing out at anyone who happened to get in the way or come to close.

Daryl had separated himself further from the group causing a fair amount of concern among some. When Carol came out to check on him, he was in a particularly foul mood. The sight of her pain was like pouring salt on his wounds. All his failures bubbled to the surface of his mind. He'd failed Sophia and he'd failed this woman who had trusted and depended on him. No one had really depended on him before, and so far as Daryl was concerned, he'd rather no one did again.

"I'm not going to let you pull away from the group," Carol insisted. The woman was undeterred by his hostile attitude and refused to budge.

Daryl glared at her. Every muscle in his body was tense and ready to snap. "Just go!" He bellowed at her. "I don't want you here."

Still Carol wouldn't leave. She couldn't, not after everything the man had done for her, everything he had done for her little girl. That man didn't owe them anything, they weren't his kin, yet still, he searched harder than anyone else for Sophia. He had cared more than the girl's own father ever had. That alone had earned him a place in Carol's heart.

"You're a real piece of work, lady," Daryl spat, angered by her quiet persistence. "Whatcha gonna do, make this about my daddy or some crap like tha'?" Daryl stopped and scoffed. "You don't know jack. You're afraid. You're afraid 'cause yer all alone. Got no husband, no daughter. Ya don' know what to do wit yerself. Well ya ain't my problem," he told her, shouting, "Sophia wasn't mine!"

River stopped at the sound of their raised voices before stepping out of the forest back onto the farm. She held back, not sure what she should do. There was too much hurt that Daryl was trying to suppress. It would be weak to let it show. Overwhelmed, he lashed out harder, trying to push Carol away. "All ya had to do was keep an eye on her!" he shouted angrily as he took a step towards her.

Reflexively Carol flinched at the aggressive gesture. Not that she thought Daryl meant to hurt her, but after years with Ed, she couldn't stop it. Daryl swallowed and took a step back. In that moment he realized what he'd done. He recognized the sign. Him and Carol both stood there and stared at each other, though Daryl didn't say another word.

* * *

The four men stood in silence staring at what they had done. Two bodies lay lifeless on the floor in a pool of blood. They were the bodies of the living, men who had sought to take the farm from them.

"What do we do now?" Dane whispered as they listened to the men's friends outside looking for a way in to the bar. They were none too happy to have heard what happened to the other two from their group.

"We go out the back," Rick instructed. He was maintaining a certain calm under pressure which Dane attributed to his police training. Rick, Glenn, Dane and Hershel scrambled quietly towards the back door. If they could make it to the car they'd be okay.

"Glenn, you're the fastest. You go. We'll cover you."

It was hard to miss the fear on Glenn's face as he glanced at Dane. The trapper nodded encouragingly. "Go ahead. We got ya." The butt of Dane's rifle was planted firmly in the meat of his shoulder as he scanned the area in front of them.

Glenn gulped nervously, but went. Rick and Dane were good men, and good shots, they would watch out for him. Still, running out into the enemies line of fire wasn't exactly his top choice of activity. In a way though, he was best suited for it. This sort of thing seemed to be his forte ever since he'd started doing supply runs to Atlanta for the quarry camp.

One of the men from the other group popped up across the lot. He raised his rifle a second too late just as Glenn was ducking behind cover. Dane reacted quickly, taking aim and firing. The man fell, but the wound wasn't instantly fatal. The shot had just missed the heart. Dane grimaced, it wasn't like shooting deer. Not only because he wasn't positive in the exact placement of the vital organs, but also because that was another human being.

The nearby Walkers smelled blood. The aroma wafting out to them like a fine meal. Their dinner bell rang with the injured man's agonizing screams. Shuffling along at the pace of the dead they changed their course towards an easy meal. Dane watched in horror. He would be eaten alive. That was no way for any man to die. He chambered another round and put the man out of his misery.

Unwilling to risk more of their lives the other group retreated from the return fire of Rick and Dane. They bailed out in a white pick up truck. It stopped just long enough alongside the building for their gunman up top to leap down. Unfortunately for him, he missed, impaling his leg on a gate. It seemed his friends didn't have much for loyalty as they chose to drive off and leave him there.

"C'mon, now's our chance we've got to go," Rick urged.

"Wait!" Dane called the rest of the group to a halt. Rick turned to him questioningly. Dane pointed to the boy impaled on the gate. "We can't leave him."

* * *

Once Carol had left the coast was clear. River figured it was alright to come out. She wouldn't be interrupting. Quietly, she slinked from the forest's edge.

Not quietly enough. "Ya evesdroppin'?" Daryl sneered.

River ignored the accusation. She'd overheard them, but that hadn't been her intention. "You know, Carol was only out here because she cares about you. It wouldn't hurt to not be a jackass for a change."

"Don'tcha even start wit' me," Daryl growled. "I ain't in the mood for yer shit, tellin' me what I should and shouldn't be doin'. Since when's it any of yer business anyhow?"

River threw her legs casually over a fallen log and sat looking at Daryl with her head cocked to the side. "Since I care about you too."

"Maybe that's yer problem," Daryl scoffed. "Dunno whatcha expect me to be. Yer knight in shinin' armor or sum shit like that? Got news fer ya princess that' ain't me. Dixon's don't give damn bout no one. Jus' look after 'em selves."

"Is that what you want me to believe?" River asked incredulously. "Really?"

"The truth, ain't it?"

River jumped off the log she was sitting on and stormed over to where Daryl was standing. The little brunette was fuming. "I don't think it is. I think you do care. Not just about me, but about all of us."

Daryl laughed dismissively.

"Except," River said bitterly, "That you're so socially backwards that that scares you. Well tough shit!" She was practically shouting at Daryl.

River stood mere inches away from his chest. He could feel the warm moisture of her breath through his threadbare shirt. Daryl reached down, grabbing her roughly around the back of her neck, forcing River to look up at him. His blue eyes were filled with anger or desire, she couldn't tell. Maybe it was both.

Looking down into her green eyes Daryl could see fire. It wasn't extinguished by the emotional tears welling up in the corners. Instead it only burned brighter. He licked his lips, wanting to taste her, wanting to kiss her furiously and unleash the torrent of emotions building up behind his wall. The girl must have senses it as she leaned in instead Daryl scoffed and shoved her away from him.

"Git outta here," Daryl barked, turning his back on her. Before he could make things worse than they already were, he needed for River to leave.

"You're not alone anymore!" River shouted at him. "You better get used to it." Frustrated and upset, her chest heaved up and down with each breath.

Daryl spun on her, backing her into one of the trees surrounding his tent. His body was so close River swore she could feel it. Her skin tingled as he looked her up and down. There was a dangerous expression in his eyes. It was the look of a hunter sizing up it's prey.

"I ain't whatcha want, girl," Daryl warned her.

"Why don't you let..."

Daryl didn't even let her finish. He pressed his lips roughly against hers, silencing her. River let out a startled gasp, but pushed back with equal force. Daryl gripped one hand behind he neck, pinning her to the tree with the weight of his body.

Her heart raced and ever sense seemed suddenly more sensitive. She became aware of their body heat, of the rough callouses of his fingers on her skin, the scent of the wet forest behind him. She could smell Daryl, a musky, earthen scent. She could fell his pulse and her own, both beating wildly.

Daryl paused, his eyes searching hers. In them he saw excitement. He saw desire and need. A need he felt too. He didn't pick her up and take her to the tent, but took her there against the tree. When her fingers found there way to the edge of his jeans he let River work the button free and lower the zipper. His own hands moved down her body, sliding her pants down over her hips.

Daryl lifted her easily and River wrapped her legs legs around his sturdy waist. Gripping tightly with her legs she pulled him to her. With each rough movement he made the bark of the tree scratched at her back. River's nails bit into his skin as she tried to stifle a gasp of pleasure. Daryl moved harder, letting vent the anger and hurt he'd felt. It was aggressive, rough and angry the way he took her, but it was what they both had needed.

When it was over they both collapsed on the ground. Daryl buttoned his jeans and River pulled her pants back up over her hips. They both laid there on their backs staring up at the stars and feeling much needed release.

"Hey River..."

"Eh?"

Daryl turned his head toward her and smirked. "G'night."

"Goodnight Daryl." River rolled over and kissed him on the cheek.

Whatever wrongs River was so far willing to forgive the redneck hunter for, things would become more strained in the morning when the others arrived with their prisoner. His arrival would force River to face a past she'd rather forget and would open scars both old and new. When you love someone you accept them as they are. That's what she'd always believed. But would River be able to accept Daryl's new role?


	38. Prisoner

 

When River woke up she had to rub her eyes. The previous night seemed like some sort of bizarre dream. One minute she was fighting with Daryl, the next their bodies were intertwined in some angry, passionate... Sex? Love-making? Fucking? What was she supposed to call it, she wondered. With Daryl Dixon? The man was practically incapable of showing any sort of affection or human connection. It had to have been a dream.

Yet when she rolled over in her cot and gazed across the tent she knew it hadn't been a dream. Her and Daryl had happened. Not remotely in the way she had fantasized about for nearly as long as she'd known him, but it hadn't been bad and she certainly hoped it wouldn't be the last time. The hardened redneck hunter did have a tendency to push her away any time she started to get close to him. She couldn't help but fear what had happened between them meant more to her than it had to him.

Still there was a glow about her that the others around the camp quickly picked up on. With Daryl, it was easy to spot the difference. The man seemed less hostile and more cooperative. River on the other hand, though they all gossiped, they couldn't quite put a finger on what was different. It was simply a glow, as they called it.

At breakfast Dale kept staring at the two of them. It made Daryl immensely uncomfortable, although River hardly seemed to notice the looks she was getting. Perhaps she noticed, but she just didn't care. Either way it seemed that Dale was waiting to corner either of them alone to make whatever insightful comment he had in mind every time he looked at them. Much to Daryl's relief, he never got the chance. Other drama arose, drawing his attention and giving him something else to meddle in than their personal affairs.

That drama that Dale so quickly became involved in started as soon as the men arrived with Randal. It was a bit of a cluster-fuck at first. Rick, Glenn and Dane had arrived back safely with Hershel. No sooner had everyone started to celebrate their safe return when it became known that they hadn't come alone. In the back of the car was a kid: bound, blindfolded and gagged.

The joy they'd felt at their companions safe return quickly changed to confusion and anger. "You really thought bringing him back here was the best idea?" Shane asked. There was such venom and disgust in his voice.

"What would you suggest?" Rick retorted. "That we just leave him to the Walkers?"

"Yeah man, that's what I would have done," Shane said coldly.

That was so like Shane, River thought. She snorted loudly in disgust. Daryl cast her a warning glance. Shane wasn't just cold. He was dangerous.

"He's just a kid!" Dale exclaimed, shocked by the sight of their prisoner. Randal was so much younger and innocent looking than he'd expected.

"He could lead them back here to the farm, to Lori and Carl. Is that what you want?" Shane asked.

Shane's words cut deep. Rick looked at his wife and son. Lori held Carl close to her, her arms wrapped around him. Never would Rick do anything intentionally that would put them in harms way. He resented the suggestion that that was exactly what he was doing.

Shane ran a hand through his dark, messy hair. "I don't know what you were thinking, man. The hell we supposed to do with him?"

Rick gritted his teeth. As of late Shane was putting him on edge. He always seemed to be questioning him, goading him, trying to undermine him. "We'll think of something," Rick said firmly.

Hershel and Dane were pulling the prisoner out of the back of the vehicle. "Right now what that boy needs is medical attention," Hershel said, disinterested in the ongoing spat between the two former deputies. "We need to do something about that leg."

As soon as Hershel mentioned the leg anger flashed across Shane's face. It was clear what he was thinking: He's infected and a threat to us all.

"He wasn't bit," Dane assured him. He could read Shane's face as well as anyone.

Shane looked at Dane skeptically. It wouldn't be the first time someone lied about being bit.

"He injured it in a fall," Hershel explained, seeing the lingering doubt on Shane's face.

No one wanted the newcomer in the farmhouse with them after they had been told the story of how Randal's group had shot at Rick and the others. So the kid was taken out to the barn where Hershel treated his injuries. There was a significant amount of muscled damage, but so far as the veterinarian could tell he would keep use of his leg. It would be a while before he was able to walk on it again. In the mean time Randal was to be kept prisoner, chained up in the barn.

* * *

Daryl and River were sitting at their camp away from the others. At one time it had simply been Daryl's camp and River slept there, but she'd been there so long now that everyone just referred to it as their camp.

Even with the food provided by the farm and cattle, the two hunters were content to continue to dine on roast squirrel, stewed squirrel, or any other variety on the theme of cooking the little critters up. Today it was rotisserie squirrel on a stick. River was meticulously peeling the stringy flesh from the bones of her dinner.

"The squirrels back home are smaller," River commented absently thinking of the little red squirrels she was accustomed to trapping.

Daryl merely grunted in acknowledgement. His focus was on the Scout Crossbow that was his baby, as River thought of it. Much like the pumpkin orange jeep was Dane's baby, or Liam was her baby, except of course her dog was capable of loving her back. For how dirty and grimy the redneck perpetually seemed to be, he kept that piece of machinery in immaculate condition. River figured it had much to do with his life depending upon it. Even before the Walkers started roaming the earth requiring it for protection, he'd looked to it to provide food to sustain himself. The brunette knew all to well what that was like.

River stood up. "I think I might bring Randal some," she said of the meat they had cooked up.

That got the man's attention. Daryl stopped what he was doing and looked up sharply. "The hell ya is!" He bellowed furiously. "Ain't no way yer goin' anywhere's near tha' asshole shot at our men."

River raised an eyebrow at Daryl's newfound protectiveness of her. "I wasn't asking your permission," she told him with an amused smile. It seemed, she thought, that maybe the previous night had meant something more to him as well.

Unlike the young woman sitting across from him, Daryl didn't find it amusing. He scowled but didn't continue to argue any further with her. He had sized her up and knew damn well it was an argument he couldn't win. Short of actually tying her up there wasn't much he could do to stop River from going into the barn if that's what she wanted to do. Even then the woman would probably find a way to wriggle free and go anyway. She had a stubborn streak like a mule and Daryl knew it.

Once she was outside the barn door, River found her confidence waning. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. Some demons, maybe, weren't meant to be faced she thought as she hesitated with her hand resting on the door handle. Silently River closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She had to focus on the present and not think about the things that had happened in her past. Bad shit happened, life went on and all that jazz, she reminded herself.

Mustering up all the courage she possessed, River opened the door and stepped inside the musty barn where they were keeping their prisoner. Randall hardly looked the threat everyone was making him out to be, she thought. He was just a kid. If anything he looked to be about the same age as Jason had been.

"You hungry?" River asked. She held out another rotisserie squirrel to the kid, placing it in his hands. Wisely this one had the stick removed. No point in handing him a weapon given his track record shooting at Rick and the others.

Randal snatched the food so quickly that River couldn't help but wonder when he had last ate. Without a word he began stripping the meat from the bones and shoving it greedily into his mouth. Maybe his group was as desperate as theirs had been beforehand coming to the farm. Maybe they were worse off.

When finally the kid had picked clean the bones he stopped and turned his head blindly towards his visitor. River had her head cocked to the side as she watched him intently. Her big, green eyes were filled with a sadness for him cowering there blindfolded and restrained.

"You aren't afraid of me like the others," Randal noted. He could sense her lack of fear.

At this River smiled and shrugged a shoulder. "If you try anything I can always kill you," she told him casually. Absent-mindedly she ran her fingers over the smooth, cool handle of her hunting knife. "So I really have nothing to be afraid of."

If River's relaxed demeanor had given Randal any ease it quickly evaporated. Nervously he swallowed and retreated a bit from her.

"Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you."

Randal's face creased with skepticism. River could easily imagine the doubt in his eyes hidden behind the blindfold. "Then why are you here?" he asked.

River shrugged, not that the kid could see the gesture, and leaned up against the wooden wall. "Suppose I just feel bad for you," she muttered. "Thought you might like some company."

There was a certain vulnerability in her voice that Randal didn't miss. In it he saw a weakness, a chance to escape. "I was scared. Your guys, well they'd just killed Dave and Tony," he started rambling as he pleaded his case. "You have to believe me. I don't want to hurt any of you. Just let me go and you'll never see or hear from me again, I promise."

River could see what he was doing and rolled her eyes. "I said I felt bad for you, not that I was a sucker," she responded. "I can't let you go. I'm, sorry, really."

With that River turned and left the barn. As soon as her feet hit the cool earth she took off running at full stride into the forest. Only when her lungs burned too badly to go on any further did she stop and lean against a nearby tree. She was shaking uncontrollably.

"Life doesn't end," River told herself. As she took in each stinging breath of fresh air she had to push back the memories stirred by her visit with Randal and remind herself that she herself was no longer a prisoner.

* * *

Daryl hesitated as night rolled around. River had been acting strange all day. It was hard to tell if it was because of what had happened between the two of the, the night before or with Randal's sudden appearance on the farm. Either way, Daryl wasn't quite sure how to handle it so he stayed up late sharpening bolts for his crossbow, keeping watch over the perimeter of the farm and poking his campfire with a stick.

It became apparent to Daryl as the pale moon drew higher in the night sky that he was going to have to face River some time or another. Glancing at the tent he briefly considered crashing in the back of Hershel's rusty pickup for the night delaying the inevitable at least until morning.

Reluctantly Daryl dismissed the idea of hiding out to avoid the woman long gone to bed in his tent. If he was lucky she'd be sound asleep. With the same careful silence he used to stalk deer, Daryl tiptoed towards the tent. Undoing the zipper slowly, he peeked inside. River was curled up on the cot. She had her back to him and her knees tucked up to her chest. Liam snored softly at the foot of the bed rather than in his usual place on the floor.

Before Daryl could breathe a sigh of relief River twisted her head around and met his awkward gaze. The sound of the rustling tent fabric must have alerted her. Her eyes were swollen and red. She'd been crying. Unequipped to deal with it, Daryl cursed inside his head. Not sure what else to do he walked across the tent and sat on his cot.

"Thought ya'd be asleep," Daryl muttered. He kept his gaze averted as he began unlacing his boots.

River didn't say anything as she got up and moved slowly across the tent. Daryl watched her hesitantly. The woman went right to him, climbed onto his lap and began kissing him. There was a deep desperation and need, a hunger as her mouth met his. Where it came from, Daryl didn't know, but he was perceptive enough to feel it.

"The hell's gotten into ya?" Daryl asked as he pushed her away.

What had happened the other night was... Well he wasn't sure what it was. It was good. He couldn't deny that, couldn't deny that he wanted River, that he enjoyed the way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she made him feel. But this, whatever she was doing tonight, it came from somewhere else entirely.

"Shh...," River held a finger to Daryl's lips and leaned in to kiss him again.

"Ya don't really want this..."

"You," River said, jabbing a finger into Daryl's strong chest. "Don't get to tell me what I do or don't want."

Before Daryl knew what was happening River had his pants undone and her hands wrapped around him. There was only so much he could resist when he'd spent so long wanting her himself. That much was beyond his control.

Each night that followed went much the same. Something had gotten into River since Randal arrived. While Daryl wasn't entirely comfortable with the circumstance, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed it. He couldn't deny that it felt good having River's body intertwined with his and the release that followed. Still, there was a nagging voice in the back of his head. Something wasn't quite right.

* * *

When breakfast rolled around River was absent yet again. It wasn't difficult for anyone to guess that she was out in the barn.

"River is spending an awful lot of time with the kid out there," Lori commented to Rick and the others.

"I wouldn't worry about her," Dane said casually as he shoved another forkful of food into his mouth.

"What's he to her anyhow?"

Dane looked away, digging into his food. It was a long time that he'd known River. The two of them were extremely close. All her secrets, all the things she kept buried away from the rest of the world, they were known to him. It was simple enough really. In a way she could relate to Randal. She saw herself in his situation and knew what it was like.

"I don't like it. It makes me nervous," Carol said, wrapping her arms around herself.

Leaning up against the wall away from the rest of the group was Daryl. He chewed at his thumbnail listening to them speak. Carol wasn't the only one unhappy about River's choice of company. He'd tried telling her to stay away from Randal, but a lot of good it ever did trying to tell River what to do.

"Well I think it's commendable that at least someone is treating Randal like a human being," Dale added snidely.

"He shot at Rick and our men," Lori reminded them. "He's dangerous. I wish he was gone from here."

"That makes two of us, "Maggie agreed. Unconsciously she reached over and squeezed Glenn's arm.

Rick sighed. There was always a burden weighing down his shoulders and the man was starting to look tired. He scanned the room and saw the uneasiness among the others in his group.

"His leg is doing better. Shane and I will take him away from here tomorrow."

Daryl scoffed from where he stood at the fringe of the group. "What's to stop him comin' back here wit' his posse?"

"We'll blindfold him," Rick assured everyone. "We'll take him far out and leave him. He won't be able to find his way back. He doesn't know where this farm's at."

Daryl's eyes narrowed. There was a certain amount of skepticism for Rick's plan as he sized the former deputy up.

* * *

That night River seemed more relaxed than she had in the two weeks since they had brought the prisoner back to the farm. While Daryl sat outside his tent cleaning the catch of squirrels he'd brought back for the day she joined him and pitched in like old times.

Usually that would mean nothing, it was normal, but considering that it was the most anyone had seen of her all week, it meant something. When she hadn't been in the barn, she'd been hiding in the woods, or crawling into Daryl's lap searching for some sort of human comfort to ease the turmoil brewing inside her. Obviously Rick's news that they would be releasing Randal had helped to calm her.

Daryl chewed at his bottom lip, periodically stealing glances at the young woman. Her past didn't change anything between them. It shouldn't matter. Still, he could help but wonder what it was that drew River so strongly to the prisoner they had locked up in the barn.

"The kid," Daryl asked River. His voice was gruff. As he spoke he sawed into the belly of a squirrel with his hunting knife. "Why ya care what happens to him?" Waiting for an answer, he squinted and peered out at the young woman, his blue eyes searching for some clue.

River looked up, surprised by Daryl's voice. Normally he was content to sit in quiet company with her... lately, maybe a little more. That suited her fine. They got each other, and that was more than she could ask for in the post-apocalyptic world in which they found each other. Before the end days she'd given up the hope of finding anyone like him. After the Wildfire outbreak, well, it was a bloody miracle.

River shrugged. "Guess I just know what it feels like to be where he is."

There was a deflated tone to River's voice that he wasn't accustomed to hearing. Daryl frowned and swallowed. It pained him to see her that way. Though he didn't push further he couldn't help but wonder if she was referring to what had happened at the IKEA or if there was more to it than that. In the awkward silence that followed, Daryl's eyes fell back to the half skinned animal in his hands.

The two said no more for the rest of the evening until River decided it was time for her to turn in for the night. She got up and kissed Daryl gently on the cheek, the way she always did. Saying her goodnights she retired to the tent. To their tent.

As River moved, Daryl let his eyes follow her, taking in her curves and the gentle sway of her hips. How'd he end up with a woman like her? She was perfect. Merle would have berated him for going soft and falling for some girl instead of just using her and ditching her. But Merle wasn't here and Daryl cared about River. Maybe he more than cared about her. Daryl swore to him self then and there that whatever haunted her past, River was his now, and if anyone tried to hurt her again they'd be getting a bolt through the skull.


	39. Means to an End

 

Things hadn't gone so well when Rick and Shane tried to send Randal on his way. Much to everyone's dismay when they returned to the farm the kid was still with them. All three men looked worse for wear. While they were gone Randal had divulged that he'd known Maggie. Therefore he knew where the farm was and was a bigger threat than originally believed. It was decided that the following morning they would get some answers from the kid one way or another.

Living practically out in the woods and off the land for as long as River had her body had become attuned to the natural cycles. There was no need for an alarm clock. In the morning she simply woke with the dawn. First she stretched her sleepy muscles then pulled on a clean pair of clothes. Leaning down to lace up her boots River ruffled Liam's dead grass colored fur. "Time to wake up lazy bones," she cooed at the dog.

With each day that passed the air was getting cooler and more crisp. River paused outside of the tent and inhaled deeply. She let the morning air fill her lungs and remind her of home.

"You're up early," Dale's voice called from atop the Winnebago.

Glancing up, River waved at the old man. "Taking Liam for a run," she said. Although her lips curved up into a smile, he could see that it was forced. There was pain behind her eyes.

Dale frowned. "By yourself?" he asked.

River shrugged off his concern. "I've got Liam, don't I?" she reminded him. "Besides, there's traps to check. If we're lucky I'll be coming back with breakfast."

The young woman's lax attitude only caused Dale's frown to deepen. "I worry about you always running off into the woods on your own," he told her. The concern in his voice was genuine.

River sighed. "No need to worry about me," she insisted. "I lived in the woods, remember?"

Frustrated, Dale shook his head. "That was before the Walkers."

"Grizzlies, wolves, cougar... What's one more predator?" River brushed off the threat posed by the Walkers easily. Seeing that Dale obviously was not comforted by this fact River added, "I'll be careful, okay?" Dale's fatherly concern was sweet.

"You'd better be," Dale told here realizing there was no use arguing. River was going to do what she was going to do regardless of anything he said. "Oh! And River," he added, pulling her attention back to him.

"Eh?"

"Promise you won't bring back any more mink."

River laughed a deep and hearty laugh. Not that she blamed him. The critters tasted horrible. "Beggars can't be choosers," she grinned at him once her laughter had subsided.

* * *

When River returned with Liam she was empty handed. At least Dale could rest assured that mink wouldn't be on the menu for the day. Reluctantly she gathered with the others to find out what was to happen with Randal now that it was discovered the location of the farm was known to him.

River had arrived back just in time. "We should know soon enough," Rick was saying as he nodded to Daryl's figure walking towards the rest of them from the direction of the barn where they kept their prisoner.

The hunter's powerful muscles glistened with sweat and his crossbow was slung over his shoulder. Normally River would have been drooling over him. There was a certain sex appeal in his rugged physical appearance that she couldn't resist. Today though she cringed. It wasn't just dirt that streaked his slick skin. There was blood splattered and caked in layers with the normal muck and grime. There was a good reason River had left the farm early and retreated to the woods.

No one spoke of what had happened that morning. They just turned to Daryl eagerly awaiting the news. How he got the information didn't matter to the majority of them, so long as he got it and they didn't have to think about what was done.

"They got thirty men with heavy artillery," Daryl warned. "They roll through here, our men are dead... and our women," he paused and took a quick, pained glance at River, "...Well, they gonna wish they was."

Daryl's knuckles were bloodied. Carol stared at them with a distanced look in her eyes. "What did you do?" she asked as if the answer wasn't right there in front of her.

"Had us a little chat," Daryl responded. The others they knew, deep down they knew the truth, but no one wanted to face the reality of what had happened in that barn.

Once again Daryl's eyes found their way to River. No attempt was made on her part to pretend as if she didn't know what had really gone inside those wooden walls. The disgust and hurt with which she looked at him cut Daryl deeply. Still he'd only done what he had to to keep them all safe... To keep her safe.

"At least have the balls to call it what it is," River sneered. "You tortured him. He would have said anything to make it stop, whatever he thought you wanted to hear."

"That whatch'ya did?" Daryl snarled back. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. He took a step back, pressed his lips together and swallowed. His eyes were still locked on her.

River's eyes were filling with tears brought up by the memory of what had happened to her at the IKEA. "I would have," she choked out shamefully. "If you hadn't come when you had. I would have said anything, true or not."

"Those men raped two little girls righ' in front of their father," Daryl stated bluntly. "Tell me if ya think he's lying 'bout that. Ya think he jus' made tha' up hopin' I'd leave him be?"

River quickly looked away. There was nothing she could say.

Daryl scoffed. "That's what I thought."

"So what do we do?" Carol asked. Her meek voice was barely loud enough to be heard.

"He can't stay here," Lori insisted.

Shane wore a look on his face that said I told you so. "Can't let him go. He knows Maggie. He knows where this farm is."

Rick mulled all of the information over in his head. "He's a threat," the former deputy stated simply. "There's only one thing we can do."

"You can't mean kill him," Dale protested. His voice was the last remaining shred of their morality. As he looked around he got the sense that he was the only one deeply disturbed by the prospect of executing the young man they had captive.

"We have no choice," Rick insisted. It was cut and dry to him.

"You always have a choice! This is a boy's life we're talking about here," Dale said with desperation in his voice. He looked pleadingly around the circle for someone to back him up. First lingering on Andrea, then Glenn, Dane and finally River. He couldn't be the only one who had a problem with this.

River shrugged and wouldn't meet Dale's eyes for fear of the judgement she'd see reflected there. "It's more humane than keeping him locked up and torturing him."

"More humane? So what," Dale asked in disbelief, "torturing people is wrong but execution is alright?"

In River's head she likened it to an animal caught in a trap. She went through great care to make sure her traps were set such that the animal would die quickly, if not instantly, and would not suffer a prolonged period. To her, right now Randal was like an animal caught in an inhumane trap and left to suffer. The right thing to do was release him or kill him. Either would do, but not to leave him like that, not to torture him and be cruel.

Dale shook his head with disgust. "What about you Dane?"

"I've already lost my brother," Dane answered coldly. Ideals be damned, I just want the people I care about to be safe."

"What happened to your humanity?" Dale demanded looking around the group. "All of you... What happened?"

_The end of the world, that's what_ , Dane thought bitterly.

* * *

When Daryl returned to their tent, River wasn't there. She wasn't there when Dale stopped by to plead Randal's case. Nor was she there to roast squirrels over the fire for dinner. Daryl had become so accustomed to her presence, he found himself continually looking up and expecting to see her, but she was never there.

The two of them had been sharing a bed, if not all night, at least part of the night for nearly two weeks. Now River wouldn't even talk to him. All Daryl had done was try to protect her. Just like Merle, just like his father, River only "loved" him if he was doing what she wanted, he thought. Her so-called love was no less conditional than anyone else's in his life had been. He'd been a fool to think any different.

Not even when a meeting was called to appease Dale and make a final vote on Randal's fate did River show up. Daryl stood back, fidgeting nervously. He hadn't seen her since the morning. If she'd gone out to check the traps she should have been back by now.

The decision was finalized and still no one had seen River. She wasn't there when Daryl dragged Randall from the barn, nor when he returned with him because Carl had shown up and Rick couldn't follow through. When Daryl decided to take things into his own hands she wasn't there. She didn't frown when he grabbed his hunting knife to finish what Rick had started.

Wherever River had been hiding out to avoid Daryl she came quick enough Dale's agonized screams echoed across the farm. She stood helplessly with the rest of them and watched in horror. The man they'd all grown so close to laid on the ground. His guts were spilling through the wound a Walker had torn into his flesh.

"He's suffering, you have to do something," Andrea pleaded. She couldn't stand to see the man who'd been like a father figure to her and Amy through the end of the world in pain the way that he was.

Reluctantly Rick pulled out his handgun and prepared to put the man out of his misery. However it was Daryl that stepped up to the plate, taking the gun from Rick and bearing the burden himself.

Daryl knelt down next to the old man. "I'm sorry brother," he whispered before pulling the trigger.

* * *

Late that night River slinked back to the tent. Daryl thought he heard her whisper goodnight as she passed, though he couldn't be sure.

When River woke in the morning she still found it hard to look at Daryl. Early in the day before the others woke she had been to the barn to visit Randal and share a meal with him as had become tradition. The kid's face was nothing but a bloodied pulp. He wouldn't even eat. Clearly he knew his days were numbered

"They're going to kill me aren't they?" Randal asked.

Looking across at the pathetic sight in front of her River wanted to say  _I'm sorry we put you through this. I'm sorry we didn't do it sooner._  That was the truth, she thought, as she studied the wounds Daryl had inflicted on the kid. Hadn't she wished her captors would have just killed her back at the IKEA? Hadn't she wished to die long before that, before she escaped and met Dane and had the chance to recreate her life.

Instead River just offered Randal a simple, "Yes." It was blunt, but there was no way to make the news that you were going to die any easier to hear. That of course was before she'd gone to Dale's funeral and heard Rick's speech. Randal would be driven out later in the day and given another chance.

Once the others were awake they buried Dale. They pulled together and they fortified the farm. They checked fences, they built watch posts, they got their shit together. River thought, sadly, how horrible it was that it had taken Dale's death for them to start pulling together instead of apart.

For the rest of the day River successfully managed to avoid Daryl and still help out, simply by being places that she knew he wouldn't be. If Lori and Patricia needed help in the house then River was the first one to offer. If Carl needed minding then River told him he could come play with her and Liam. It worked like a charm.

It wasn't that River didn't desperately want to be in his big strong arms. It wasn't that she didn't want to feel the way Daryl's pulse quickened when she pressed her body into his, or even just to share quiet companionship as they cleaned their catches together. It was just that every time River looked at him she saw what he'd done to Randal. Inevitably that led to her thinking about what the men who'd captured her at the IKEA had done. It was too hard.

Unconsciously River trailed a finger over the deep scar down her side. The cut had healed without complication but had left a raised pink ribbon of scarred flesh in it's wake. It would always be there to forever remind her of that day.

* * *

"You and the broad having a lover's quarrel?" Shane goaded as Daryl passed under the watch tower he was building. Apparently the way in which River was distancing herself from Daryl had been noticed by more than a few people.

"Like it up there?" Daryl barked at him. "Ya best watch yer mouth if ya ever wanna come down, else I'mma kick yer ass."

"I'd remember who you're talking to," Shane warned.

"Else what? Gonna kill me like ya did Otis?"

Spotting Lori walking towards them from the farmhouse, Shane went to cast Daryl a warning glare. However, the hunter had already stalked off and disappeared. Daryl was wishing everyone would just stay the hell out of his business. That and that River would at least acknowledge him again.

* * *

It was easier to wait until River had gone to bed. Then Daryl could sneak into the tent later after she was asleep. The last two weeks she'd waited up for him, grinning as she made her way to his bed. It had become a routine he secretly coveted and looked forward to. Last night she hadn't even turned her head to look at him when he'd come in. That had hurt worse than anything she could have said.

Daryl grimaced when he saw River approaching their little camp. He expected nothing more than a repeat of the previous night. To his surprise though she didn't just walk by him again. Instead she walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek the same as she used to have done.

"Goodnight Daryl," River said quietly.

Daryl peered out at her suspiciously. "Thought ya hated me?"

River shook her head from side to side and sighed overly dramatically. "Dumb ass. Like I could ever hate you." She stopped, taking his face in her hands and looking him in the eye, although Daryl did everything in his power to avert his gaze from hers. "I love you," she told him earnestly. "But right now I just don't like you."

With that River ducked into the tent and disappeared. Daryl smirked to himself, satisfied enough with her answer for now. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe River's love was different.

 


	40. Beside the Dying Fire

 

Everything seemed to be going smoothly at first. Daryl and Rick got everything prepared in the morning to take Randal away from the farm. Relief from the stress his presence had been causing was within their grasp. At least that's how they'd all felt until T-Dog had gone to fetch him from the barn and he wasn't there. Somehow or another Randal was missing.

Part of River was glad that the kid had escaped. His capture and torture had hit too close to home for her. Given what she had gone through in the past she had been able to relate to him in a way the others didn't seem to be able to. However, something about the circumstances of his disappearance didn't sit right with her.

"We have to find him. He could lead the rest of his group right back to us," Rick insisted.

River swallowed and stole a glance at Daryl. There was apprehension in her big green eyes. The things that Daryl had told them... The confessions that he had beaten out of the kid reverberated inside her head. Even River couldn't just let Randal escape.

"We split into pairs," Rick told them. "I'll go with Shane. Glenn you're with Daryl. River you go with Dane."

"How come River gets to go?" Andrea demanded.

"We need someone who's a decent shot here in case Randal comes back," Dane explained.

"Plus River can track," Rick added.

It was apparent that Andrea wasn't pleased with being left behind at the farm. However, she accepted their reasoning with little more than a dissatisfied huff.

"Light's gonn' be fadin'," Daryl noted as he grimaced at the sky. "Best go now if we has any hope of findin' this asshole."

Rick nodded in agreement, casting a weary glance at the sky himself. It wasn't safe after dark. That much they had learned the hard way time and again. You couldn't see the Walkers coming. First they had been attacked at the quarry camp with Walkers seemingly coming out of nowhere. Then again the night before Dale's death had proven the point yet again.

"Let's move," Rick commanded. With that him and Shane were off and moving.

Nervously Glenn looked to Daryl. "Well?" he asked. The pizza delivery boy hadn't the faintest idea where to begin when it came to trying to track someone.

Daryl didn't hear him. His focus was elsewhere as he watched River gather her dog. As she moved about she was discussing a plan with Dane. There was a twinge of jealousy that Daryl felt watching the ease with which the two of them interacted. After his interrogation of Randal, River wouldn't even talk to Daryl.

What Daryl really wanted was to tell River to be safe. Better yet, he wanted to tell her not to go. The thought of something happening to her...

"Earth to Daryl!"

Daryl's head snapped around to find Glenn staring at him expectantly. Clearing his throat, he took one last look at River. "Yeah, c'mon chinaman," Daryl said gruffly as he moved towards the forest.

Glenn rolled his eyes as he followed the veteran trapper. "Korean," he corrected half-heatedly. Daryl smirked. Both of them knew he knew that by now.

* * *

Dane and River strolled through the woods. They moved at a steady but comfortable pace with Liam trotting happily along behind them.

"You and Daryl," Dane started speaking in a tone that suggested he was about to give one of his big brother speeches. They may not be related by blood, but he was the closest thing that River had to family.

"What about us?" River snapped defensively. She wasn't even sure there was an us. Sure the two of them had slept together, but this was Daryl Dixon they were talking about, and she could never be sure what anything meant with him.

"You love him, don't you?"

"Of course I do." The words didn't come as a surprise to him. Dane had probably realized it long before River had.

Dane stopped in his tracks, forcing River to turn and face him. "Then you need to forgive him," he told her.

River exploded, her voice rising with each word she spoke. "He tortured that kid! Bad enough we all kept him locked up, but torture Dane? That's..."

"Tom!" Dane said sharply, cutting her off. It was a name River barely heard anymore since Jason had died.

"What?" River demanded.

"Look, I know how hard it must be after what you went through," Dane told her. His voice had become softer and more sympathetic.

River turned her head and looked away. All the memories she tried so hard to keep locked away were right there at the surface. She tried not to think of the year of her life that she spent locked away at the hands of the people who were supposed to care for her. It had been hell after her parents death. She tried not to think about her experience at the IKEA.

"But he was only doing what was necessary to protect the group," Dane pressed on insistently. "Daryl was only doing what no one else here could... For the good of all of us."

"By torturing some kid?" River asked disgustedly.

"By getting answers that we needed," Dane responded blandly. "If you love someone you accept them as they are. That doesn't mean you always have to like their actions, but you forgive them, right?"

River glared at Dane and stuck out her tongue. Damn him for using her own words against her. "Right," she agreed reluctantly. She felt better already. Holding a grudge just wasn't in her nature.

* * *

Hours had passed and they were no closer to finding Randal then they had been at the start. So far as Glenn could tell, him and Daryl had been wandering seemingly aimlessly through the woods. Now there was almost no light left. They were running out of time.

Glenn sighed in frustration. "I thought you said that you could track him," he complained.

"I can," Daryl growled. "C'mon chinaman."

"We've been out here for hours," Glenn whined as he followed the redneck hunter. "Wait isn't that the farm?"

"Good," Daryl smirked. "Was worried ya couldn't see outta them slant eyes of yers," he teased. Glenn was a good kid and Daryl liked him.

Glenn shook his head, but didn't respond to Daryl's jab. "What are we doing here?" he asked.

"Gonn' see where the kid went."

"What have we been doing for the last two hours then?" Glenn demanded. He was beginning to sound exasperated.

"Didn't want Shane knowin'," Daryl told him. "There ain't one set of tracks outta here, there's two of 'em," he explained when he saw the look of confusion on Glenn's face. "And they's walkin' side by side."

Comprehension dawned on his face. "You mean?" Glenn asked wide eyed.

"Randal didn't escape."

* * *

They'd been trudging through the woods for quite some time. Dane held up a hand motioning for River to stop. At her side Liam let out a low, rumbling growl. Something was wrong. River wrapped a hand protectively through his collar.

Dane stalked carefully forward. Removing the binoculars he carried around his neck he quickly glassed the area. River watched quietly. For a moment she forgot where she was. Half of her expected him to follow up by swiping an open palm over top of his head: _a doe_. Instead he held up three fingers. Of course it was the dead that roamed the woods now, not deer.

They needed to be quiet and not draw the Walkers' attention. River used her hand signals, telling Liam to lay down and stay while she crouched up next to her hunting partner. Her and Dane exchanged pained smiles. It seemed Dane had had similar thoughts as she had. They could just as easily be out hunting a buck rather than an escaped prisoner and the walking dead.

"Just like old times," Dane breathed. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Stifling a chuckle, River whispered back, "Almost. Not quite though."

"I got the one on the left," Dane told her.

"Still leaving the harder shots to me," River grinned.

"You wish," Dane laughed.

"Do you think the sound will draw more?" River asked. Her brow wrinkled with concern for those left back at the farmhouse.

Dane shook his head. "We're pretty deep in the woods and in a bit of a gully. The forest will swallow the gunshot. The sound won't carry far."

Little did either of them know that there was a herd already approaching. Gunshot or no gunshot it was too late anyhow.

River nodded and the two of them both took aim. "Who gets the one in the middle then?" she asked.

"I'll race you to it," Dane said knowing that River would gladly accept the challenge.

"You're on," River said with a smile. Her voice was followed by three successive cracks of gunshots. It was hard to say who actually shot the middle one. Likely if they were to examine the body they would have found two bullet wounds in the monster's head.

* * *

The body of the Walker they'd just dispatched lay motionless on the ground. Daryl crouched down examining the corpse. It was Randal, without a doubt. They'd found their prisoner, just not quite as they'd expected.

"Don't see no bite marks," Daryl grumbled. His voice was low.

Unlike the hunter Glenn wasn't so eager to get close to the lifeless corpse. He kept his distance and tried not to spend too much time staring at the dead chunk of flesh. "It must have been a scratch then," Glenn reasoned.

"I'm tellin' ya, ain't no marks on him," Daryl insisted.

Rustling in the underbrush several yards to the left caught their attention. Daryl raised a finger to his lips signaling Glenn to be quiet. With expert precision he loaded a bolt in his crossbow and raised it in the direction of the noise. It wasn't the dead that stumbled out of the bushes. Instead it was River that stepped out. Not far behind her came Dane and Liam.

Daryl lowered the crossbow and stared at her. "Damn girl! Got no business walking outta the bushes like tha'. Coulda shot ya thinkin' ya a Walker or sumthin'," he growled angrily.

River smiled, "So cute. You care about me," she teased. By now she recognized the redneck's special brand of concern. Nodding at the body laying on the ground River stated plainly, "Looks like you found our missing person."

"He was a Walker," Glenn explained.

"'Cept he ain't got no bites or scratches," Daryl added.

At that River raised an eyebrow. "Well isn't that strange."

* * *

The four of them arrived back at the farm well after dark. Liam lumbered along beside them as if their outing had been nothing more than a stroll through the park. The dog didn't realize the world had gone to shit. To the Chessie they might as well just be on an extended camping trip.

"Where's Rick?" Dane demanded as soon as they were through the door. They had important news to tell him about Randal. Daryl's discovery was concerning to say the least.

"You mean he's not with you?" Lori asked. Panic was starting to strangle her voice. The mother sounded on the brink of hysterics.

"Him an' Shane ain't back yet?" Daryl questioned.

Lori shook her head. "Can you please go find my husband?" She pleaded. Once again she was left feeling helpless as she waited in the farmhouse after dark for Rick to return. Last time Lori had made the same request Daryl had blown up at her. This time he merely nodded and headed back towards the door.

River hurried along side him. "I'm coming," she offered, smiling weakly at him.

"Ya don't have ta," Daryl said quietly. His gaze dropped to the floor.

"I want to," River told him. She reached out and gave Daryl's hand a gentle squeeze.

Even such a small show of affection made him uncomfortable in front of the others. Daryl swallowed reflexively and pressed his lips together. Although River swore she could see the faintest curve of a smile at the corner of his lips.

"Well then, let's go. Ain't got all day." When Daryl opened the door they quickly realized it wasn't going to be so simple. River let out a shocked little gasp and they both stared out in horror.

Seeing the expressions on their faces Dane moved to the window. "We got bigger problems right now," he told everyone. Without a thought Dane grabbed his rifle from where it sat near the door and loaded a round. There were Walkers outside of the farmhouse. Hundreds of them.

The fight that ensued was chaotic. Everything was falling apart around them. It was so hard to keep track of who was where and what was happening.

In the back drop the barn had caught fire. The hot flames licked at the black night sky. On the roof were Carl and Rick. The father and son were stranded. Without a thought for himself, Jimmy took the Winnebago and tried to save them. It was a selfless sacrifice for while he was successful, Jimmy did not make it out alive. He'd given his life to save the others.

Hershel stood like a sentry on the front porch with his shotgun. The horde of Walkers was advancing. Fearlessly the man unloaded shot after shot although it made no discernible dent in the undead's numbers. There were simply too many of them to fight off.

"This is my farm, and I'll die here," Hershel proclaimed.

Daryl hopped over the deck railing and joined the old man. He loaded his own weapon in a show of solidarity. "Good a night as any," he said. It didn't take much to realize that there was no way they could fight back a herd the size of the one they were faced with.

"Don't be stupid," Dane told Hershel. "Your daughters... they need you."

Hershel looked at him and nodded. The farm may have been in his family for a hundred and sixty years, but there was nothing more important in the world than his girls. Following Dane's lead he made his way towards the vehicles. Suddenly a Walker stepped out of the shadows. It's gnarled, bony fingers latched on to Herhel's clothing, dragging the unsuspecting man to the ground.

"Get it's head up!" Dane shouted back at him. He looked through his scope, waiting for a clean shot.

Either Hershel couldn't hear Dane's shouting or else he wasn't able to lift the monstrosity's head. The man and the Walker remained locked in a desperate struggle. One for food, one for survival.

"Jesus Christ," Dane muttered when he realized that there wouldn't be a clean shot. Giving up, he ran straight for them. Using the butt of his rifle like a baseball bat he knocked the Walker off of Hershel and saved his life.

"Thanks," Hershel panted as he struggled to his feet.

A smile of relief spread across Dane's face. "Don't mention it."

The look of horror that appeared on Hershel's face registered in Dane's brain just before he felt another Walker's teeth sinking it's teeth into his shoulder. Dane screamed out in surprise. In all the chaos he must have missed it. He couldn't even say where it had come from. It was just there.

It was Andrea's bullet that took down the Walker. The woman rushed to Dane, taking him in her arms. "Dane, no... No," she weeped.

"It's okay," Dane said softly. "Everything dies." His face was pained, but Andrea could also see a calm acceptance in his eyes.

"But Dane..."

Dane lifted her chin and looked into Andrea's blue eyes. "Life doesn't end just cause bad shit happens," he told her. The same words he'd repeated so many times in his life to River and his brother. "It's up to you now."

"What do you mean?" Andrea asked tearfully.

"I don't want to come back as one of those things."

"Dane... I can't," Andrea protested as she shook her head.

"Yes you can," Dane insisted. "You're strong, and you've come so far. You can do this," he told her as he guided her pistol to his temple. "Just pull the trigger. I'm as good as a Walker now and it's up to you to protect the group."

Andrea nodded. "I am so sorry Dane," she cried as she squeezed the trigger. Sadly she watched the one man who had believed in her and helped her to find her own way fall dead to the ground. "I am so sorry."

Everything seemed out of place. For a moment, as River watched Dane's body fall, it was as if the world was moving in slow motion. It was a stark contrast to the fast-paced chaos they'd been thrown into. River cried out and tried to run back toward the farmhouse. Back towards Dane... Towards her best friend.

There were Walkers there. Too many of them. Daryl quickly reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling River into him. Sobbing, she buried her head in his chest. There was nothing she could do. Dane was dead.

When Daryl pulled away from her River realized that everyone else had scattered. They were either dead or on the road, but no one was left fighting. It was time to go. Time to run. It was the only option any of them had left.

"We have to go," Daryl told her firmly. He let River pull away from him far enough that she could look up to his face. There was pain in his eyes. It wasn't for himself. It was for her loss.

"No," River said blankly.

"Damnit River!" Daryl growled as he tugged her towards the motorcycle that had once been his brother Merle's. "Git on," he commanded her. There was no patience left in his voice. Those Walkers were already too close. Every second they wasted the abominations drew closer.

In a state of shock River looked back at the horde of Walkers and the burning barn. Hell on earth, that was the only way she could describe the scene. If there was a God, he was punishing them. Peeling her eyes away from the grisly scene River looked down at her dog. Liam. Her baby. His tongue was lolling out of the side of his mouth as he waited for his master to give him a sign.

"Forget the dog," Daryl told her. "Ain't worth dyin fer some mutt."

"He's not a mutt," River retorted. Through her tears came a choked laugh.

"C'mon!"

"I can't leave him," River cried. There was no way she could bring herself to abandon Liam. "He's all I got left."

"Tha' ain't true," Daryl said sharply.

With tears in her eyes River looked up at Daryl. Sadness, loss, that was all he could see in her green eyes that were normally so full of life. Dane and Jason were both dead. She had no family. Just Liam.

"How can you..."

"Ya got me, don'tcha?" Daryl stared at her. His blue eyes pleaded with her to go with him.

River closed her eyes and counted to three. She half expected to open them and find herself laying snuggled up in her own bed outside of Fort Nelson, all of this nothing more than a bad dream. Except it was still the nightmare they'd all been living that greeted her when she opened them.

"I can't. I couldn't live with myself," River said finally. "I'll be fine. We'll catch up with you."

"I ain't leavin' ya."

"I'm not giving you a choice," River said stubbornly.

Her heels were dug in. Daryl knew well enough that the battle was already lost. "Yer as bad as a damn mule, ya know that?"

River chuckled. Sure, she'd been called that on more than one occasion. "Carol needs help," she said as she pointed towards where the older woman was cornered.

Daryl frowned. Carol did clearly need help. There was no way the woman would make it out on her own. Still, he didn't want to leave River.

"You help her. I can take care of myself." River insisted.

Daryl nodded solemnly. By now he knew River well enough to know that nothing he could say would change her mind. Every minute he wasted arguing with her the Walkers gained ground. All he could do was trust her choice and hope that she would be okay.

"Daryl wait!" River called after him as she wiped away the snot from her tears. This time it was her turn to ask."Did you mean what you said?"

"Huh?"

"That I have you now... Did you mean it?"

"Said it, didn't I. Course I meant it."

Tears were welling up in River's eyes again. "I love you, Daryl."

Daryl grabbed River, pulling her body tight against his. Leaning down he pressed his lips against hers. For a moment stolen in the chaos they were locked together in a passionate kiss. The rest of the world momentarily fell away. Nothing matter to either of them than the other.

"I love ya too," Daryl told her. There was such raw emotion in his voice as the words escaped his lips for the first time. His icy blue eyes locked with her deep green ones. River was sure she could see a hint of tears hidden within. "Now go, and whatever happens ya keep on keepin' on. Ya hear me?" Daryl demanded gruffly, pushing her away from the oncoming horde.

With one final nod River turned on her heals and disappeared with Liam into the woods. A lump formed in his chest as Daryl watched her go. All the hoping and praying in the work wouldn't keep her safe, but that didn't stop him. At least he knew if anyone ought to be able to survive out there on their own it would be her.

Once River was out of sight Daryl swung a leg over his bike. She trusted him to take care of the others. She saw that good in him. That was more than anyone had done before and he wasn't going to let her down. Once the rest of them were safe he'd go back out and he'd find her. Daryl would go back for River. He'd find the woman he loved again.

**The End...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this and want to find out if River and Daryl find eachother again, look for the sequel "Keep on Keeping on"


End file.
